


Out of Time

by Lilkiwibird



Series: Straight Outta Lorien [2]
Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Auntie Allison, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Complete, Doppelganger, Family Fluff, Fluff, Grandfather, Nudity, Protective Vanya Hargreeves, Superpowers, Uncle Ben - Freeform, Uncle Diego, Uncle Five, Uncle Klaus, Uncle Luther, Vanya is a mother, netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 93,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26040241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilkiwibird/pseuds/Lilkiwibird
Summary: I thought I warned you already? Weren't you listening? Geez, you must be thick! The mess of time travel has nothing to do with this! Pay attention this time! There ARE other civilisations out there & some of them seek to destroy you. You have been warned. Again.
Relationships: Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves
Series: Straight Outta Lorien [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890241
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Foreword

_“A spatial jump is trivial when compared to the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice and the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn”—_ ** _Pg 2,_** **_The Intricacies of Time Travel,_** **_Sir_** **_R. Hargreeves_**

_“The journey itself is not so bad, once you get used to the pinching, the pulling and the distorting of your limbs…it’s the after effects that really strain you…Time travel is a crap shoot—there’s no way of knowing how or when you’ll end up, nor in what state…Old and grey in the body of child—still there are worse things”_ **_—Pg 5, Catching up with The Umbrella Academy: Where are they Now?, P.J. Henderson_ **

_“In the 58th year of Earth’s 20th century, all able-bodied Garde who had escaped from the collapse of Lorien landed on our sister planet without much issue…Native representatives came to greet the shuttles and helped to scattered the survivors across the planet…It did not take long for the Mogadorian fleets to follow…In the 59th year of Earth’s 20th century, the witch hunt for the Council Nine began…No one was safe”_ **_— Pg 10-13, The Witch Hunt of the Council Nine, P. Lore_ **


	2. Prologue

**_25 November 1963_ **

Landing in the back alley of some side street, Five could honestly say it wasn't the worst landing he'd ever had—and he'd had quite a few, especially in the beginning. He still shuddered when he thought of a particular mark in a particular room of his childhood home from where he had landed half-way through a low-bearing wall. Crashing to the wet ground, his chin smacked painfully against the concrete as the familiar blue vortex spat him—and only him—out the other side before zipping shut with a whir and a whoosh."Luther! Diego!" Five cried staring up at the pulsating vortex as it zipped shut, taking the last remnants of his family with them.

Before he could fall further into despair, the familiar sound of gunfire lit up the street at the mouth of the alleyway. Reaching the main street, he found a sight that confused him to no end. Elvish-like creatures lined the streets alongside uniformed soldiers as they marched in rows of black & green and fired catastrophic weapons at fleeing civilians. Fire and smoke bloomed from the buildings around him and rubbled filled the street as tanks rolled in from the opposite direction and fired in kind.

A single bolded headline from a paper caught amongst the rubble caught his attention and he rushed over to read it, in the hopes that he could figure out just _what the hell_ was going on. " _ALIENS INVADE U.S.…?"_ He read the yellowing paper, before jumping out of the line of fire and jogged further down he street. "No! This can't be right!"

"We're gonna get you outta here—just keep your head down" A soldier reassured a severely wounded business man just a few paces in front of him, as another platoon of elvish creatures—aliens—ran in from a side street brandishing the same odd-looking guns.

"HEY KID! GET DOWN!" Another called to Five as he surveyed the disaster zone before him.

"What the _hell_ did we do now?" Five puzzled.

**_BANG!_ **

"Ahh!" Five gasped as he collapsed, the sound of the tank going off next him doing its very best to burst his ear drums. A quick glance upwards showed him then next unlikely scene, one that absolutely gobsmacked him.

There, floating in the air and pale as snow was Vanya who simply raised her hands towards the missile and exploded it against the energy wave emanating from her palms. Next was Klaus who conjured not _one_ but at least _eight_ spirits at the same time and sent them forth to tear the enemy apart in varying degrees of possession. Then there was Luther—shaved down and bulked up—who jumped in just as a missile was launched towards his Klaus. The might ape stopped it in its tracks with just the durability of his hairy back.

Five's eyes then trailed over to a corporeal Ben—"Holy shit! Ben!"—who stood atop an old bookstore as he lynched and flung soldiers around like they were toys. Then there was Allison who fearlessly strode towards three of the heavily armed creatures and Rumoured all three minds to _explode._ Next was Diego who easily dodged the rain of bullets aimed at him; all the while demanding where the hell _he_ had been. Last but not least was a young man who glittered in blue crystal, that Five could only assume was his nephew, and easily lifted a wrecked car and threw it down the street like it weighed nothing; flinging the contraption towards a platoon of blackened elves.

Before Five could go and intervene, a hand appeared on his shoulder and he looked up to see that it was connected to Hazel—a _very_ elderly Hazel. "If you wanna live, come with me" He propositioned.

"Hazel?" Five breathed, taking in his old colleague. "What's going on here?"

"There's no time to explain—" Hazel turned to point at the slew of incoming whistling missiles. "Those are nukes, old timer"

"Holy shit—!" Five mouthed, staring up at the impending doom. "What about my family?"

"You can't save 'em if you're dead" Hazel reasoned.

Five shook his hand and the two disappeared in a flash of blue, leaving behind a world of smoke and ash. Again.


	3. Dallas Days: In the Beginning

**_April 1958: DAY ONE_ **

Wind howled through the city of Dallas, Texas and rain poured down in sheets of icy needles, beating against the concrete path like bullets. The alley behind _Commerce and Knox_ was littered with soaked leaves and shards of broken bottles when Theodore J. Hargreeves landed there.

One minute he had been standing amongst his family members as they gripped tight to each other during one final Hail Mary as Uncle Five tore open a hole in time and space that was large enough for all eight of them to disappear through. The next minute he had landed roughly on the cold wet ground, smacking his chin against the concrete with a groan. An aching pain lanced through his chest as flesh stitched itself back together and nausea roiled in his gut. With a throaty groan, he shakily pushed himself up onto his knees and looked around through dizzy vision at the dimly-lit alleyway he had landed in.

"Un—uncle?" Theodore called, his eyes narrowed against the pelting rain as he rose and spun to the left. "Auntie?" Spinning to the right he found the alleyway was lined with soggy paper bags of stinking rubbish, some of which had split in the rain. All-in-all, it was a rather quaint little hideaway, but nothing out of the ordinary. Unless you counted the blue vortex swirling above his head which he had been ejected from only moments before.

Dizzy eyes searched the violently pulsating vortex above him as it swirled in twisting clouds of blue. "Mama? Mama! MAMA!" He tried calling through cupped hands, but it was no use. Almost as if in reply, the vortex fluctuated once more and then disappeared with a whoosh as if it had never been there to begin with. The strong winds accompanying the rip in time disappeared alongside the portal and the streetlamp across the way flickered and spat its light on the ground.

 _"Wha—where the hell are we?"_ Loren grumbled as Theodore drunkenly stumbled towards the mouth of the alley.

"I think the question is _when_ are we?" Theodore replied as he watched an old Ford Anglia (in pretty good condition) skitter down the road. Dread pooled in his veins and his stomach threatened to upheave itself as he slowly shuffled over a soggy poster glued to the wall. His eyes skimmed over the five teens who appeared to be dancing in vintage wear, and instead became glued to the text surrounding them:

_DON'T MISS OUT! COME ALONG TO OUR SWELL ROCK 'N ROLL DANCE OFF! LIVE TELEVISED EVENT! SATURDAY 9TH JUNE 1958!_

He blinked dumbly at that. "No way" Theodore gasped, rereading the words with fervency. "1958? That can't be right!"

 _"But it is"_ Loren replied.

"But it _can't_ be! How can we be in 1958?!" He gripped his wet locks in panic as his heart stuttered in his chest at the severity of the new situation. No way back and no way out—here he was stuck in the past with absolutely no clue of what to do.

 _"The little monkey did say he would take us back"_ Loren reminded him.

"Speaking of which—where are the others?"

_"Not here"_

"No shit, Sherlock" Despite Theodore's sarcastic remark, his thoughts ran wild as he came up with different reasons as to where his family was and what had happened to them. They could be all together someplace else, he could be the only one who made it, they could be in another time altogether or worst of all, they could be _dead._ The thought made his legs turn to jelly.

He had just escaped the end of the world and yet here he was, stuck in the past alone—" _What am I? Chopped liver?"—_ again. Back in 2019, he had at least some sort of presence—people knew him, they missed him when he was gone, talked to him and knew his story (however stretched); but here in the past? He was nobody, a ghost, invisible. Which might have been nice given any other situation but as it stood he knew that without even a scrap of (high) school credentials, references or even an address there was no way he'd be able to pass off as just another teenager—there was just too many holes in his story this time around. Loren was right—his life was like a bad soap opera.

He promptly lost his stomach. Hunched over and eyes screwed shut, Theodore tried to think of anything other than the acidic burn in his mouth as the remnants of his last meal deposited itself on the alley floor, splashing against the concrete and adjoining brick wall. It was at times like this that Theodore wished he was like other teens, maybe then he could have lived a life devoid of alien bounty hunters, impending Apocalypses and superpowered family members. Maybe then, he would have actually got to live a normal life.

Standing at the end of the alleyway with bile dribbling down his chin and clad in naught but a pair of tattered plaid suit pants and shredded bowling shoes, Theodore watched as another vintage car roll passed with its headlights winking in the rain. Across the street, beneath the blinking lights an old pastel-painted shop proudly presented a curly-lettered sign that read: _'WHITES ONLY'_ and he knew—even as his nose scrunched up in disgust—that Loren was right, they really were stuck in the past. _"Alone again"_ Loren sighed.

"Yay" Theodore deadpanned.

* * *

**_November 1958: DAY TWO HUNDRED & FOUR_ **

The fire at his feet danced across newspaper clippings and over the broken shards of glass as the sound of the crackling flames filled the otherwise stoney silence. There were five others clumped in the little huddle with him, but Theodore couldn't remember their names for the life of him—not that he really cared. Instead, he watched the flickering flames with glazed eyes and an unmarked bottle of moonshine dangled between his fingers.

The fire was almost irrelevant given how many layers he was wearing, but somehow the cold air still seemed to find a way in and chill him to his bones. It had been almost laughably easy to pinch the clothes from the washing lines—people were so much more trusting in the '50s. Scratching at the 5 o'clock shadow now covering his chin, Theodore reminisced on how similar his first 'shopping trip' was to the one when he had first escaped from the _Ragnor-Ra Rehabilitation Centre_ in Arizona when he was a child.

Now garbed in several layers of plaid, garishly-patterned sweater vests, cardigans and an oversized reversible jacket, Theodore thought he at least looked the part of homeless teen. The skinny jeans certainly made things easier, although less space to hide things on his person. He still stubbornly refused to wear shoes.

He raised the bottle to his lips and inhaled another mouthful of the harsh liquid, wincing only slightly when it burned as it went down. Theodore hadn't really touched alcohol before the Apocalypse—it just wasn't really his thing. But life on the streets was hard, especially for a kid (no matter how much denied being one) on their own. If he had thought things were hard in the 2000's, it was nothing compared to the '50s. Sure men had it easier than most—especially white men—but there would always be pretentious assholes who spat on their lessers.

The constant running from the Mogadorian witch hunt didn't help matters—that was another thing. It had taken all of seven months for Theodore to become reacquainted with the aliens and at first he had thought they had somehow followed them from 2019. But when he discovered no _Ragnor-Ra_ patch on any of them, his theory was quickly dismissed; although that didn't really answer his questions. The simple fact was he was Garde and they were Mogadorians on the hunt, that was all he really knew. So he drank. It was so much easier to _forget—_ to stop feeling the fear, the anxiety, the overwhelming paranoia that followed him around like a shadow. His grip tightened on the neck of the bottle and he shifted closer to the fire as his thoughts turned elsewhere.

Currently, they were positioned under a bridge that provided enough shelter from the elements and any wandering policemen. In the few memories he had of his time after the escape from the School, he remembered spending months squatting in abandoned or unused buildings. There was no such benefits here. On the plus side, security in stores was far looser than he was used to, meaning that it was incredibly easier to nick what he needed.

His stomach grumbled as he recalled the prospect of food. The last time he'd eaten anything substantial was half a sandwich the day before. Of course because of his enhanced senses and healing factor, the boy was (logically) able to survive off of nothing for a long time, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be painful or something he'd opt to do. It just meant that unlike the others, he wouldn't die after a week of no food—of course, he'd probably wish to if it ever came to that.

He had never felt so low before. Before he had met Mama, he had no one to miss aside from the quasi-friends he'd made at School and the lingering memories of his birth parents. But now, he knew what it felt like to long for people he could have been with, for everything he could of had. He missed Mama with a passion—a passion that was often tinged with guilt at what he had done. Would she _ever_ forgive him? Would she _ever_ remember?

Theodore missed Uncle Klaus' stories and Uncle Five's sarcastic quips. There'd be times when he would find himself missing Uncle Diego's brash and protective nature or Auntie Allison's sassy remarks. Sometimes he even missed Uncle Luther and his ridiculous obsession with the moon. Whenever Theodore stared up at the big rock in the sky, he couldn't help but think of his hairy uncle and laugh at the fact that he was right—the moon _had_ been involved, just not in the way they had expected. He just hoped that the siblings were okay wherever they were.

The gypsy woman across from him was holding a spoon filled with fine powder over the fire with leathery fingers as she waited for it to melt down into a liquid. Theodore gulped down more of the moonshine as he leant back against the tan rucksack he'd nicked from a thrift store. It wasn't special by any means, just a regular old rucksack with a few splashes of colour here and there from the make-shift patch job done with various scraps of fabric.

He watched with lazy eyes as the woman brought out a syringe and tied off the circulation to her forearm before jabbing the needle into her old flesh. Theodore could now understand why she would do it, he was sick of feeling things too. He would much rather experience the horrors he faced every time he shut his eyes through a hazy film than the crystal clarity of reality and all the pain & heartache that came attached. Away from the nightmares that lingered at the corners of his vision or watched from the shadows.

But he wasn't like these people; he couldn't escape from reality so easy, but that didn't mean he couldn't damn well try. So he gulped down the moonshine and stretched his bare toes even closer to the flickering flames.

* * *

**_November 1959: DAY THREE HUNDRED & SIXTY-FIVE_ **

Theodore felt like he was dragging himself through molasses for most of the year as it passed by in blurred days and meaningless months. The worst part was, he couldn't seem to recall anything distinguishable (besides his arrival in Dallas) that had happened. Days rolled in to weeks, that ambled into months and trudged into a year. Every day seemed like a repeat of the previous.

Most days he would try to sleep in the highest place he could find—a rafter or roof—but that wasn't always possible. Those nights when he was forced to lay on the ground was spent very much awake and very much filled with paranoia. Now eighteen, he knew that he could likely get himself a job and a proper life, but with the constant threat of the Mogadorian witch hunt hanging over his head, he found himself holding back. What good would it do to endanger more people? Hadn't he hurt them enough?

Surviving the past by himself had been a trip. He would pick a new spot around Dallas to move to every few weeks, remaining a shadow to most of the public. Those on the streets that _did_ know him, knew him only as 'Bear' or 'Mooney' (owing to the ridiculous amount of moonshine he consumed on the regular).

Stealing was still pretty easy—food in particular—and Theodore often found himself reverting back to old habits in order to feed himself; slipping a bread roll under his large jacket, a tin of some kind into the waistband of his pants and so on. He was rarely caught, but when he was, he simply outran or outmanoeuvred his pursuers. Recently, he had taken to bleaching or dying his hair in order to remain anonymous (admittedly it _had_ taken him a few tries to get it right, but the instructions on the box were just so confusing!). Currently, he was sporting a black curly mop and beard—even his eyebrows had been done, but it's not like anyone really cared.

Theodore hoisted his rucksack higher up his shoulder as he scaled the side of the water tower before he plopped down on the roof. Delving deep, his hand scrabbled amongst the crap stuffed inside before it finally resurfaced with the various items he had scavenged from the Loric shuttle. It had been by complete chance that he had found it to be honest; he had been looking for a place to squat for the night when he had come across the broken shuttle buried deep in the scarred earth.

At first he had thought it was an old observatory like the one at the Hargreeves mansion, or an old bus that had seen better days. It wasn't until Theodore had forced his way inside that he found out what it really was. After a fair amount of bumping around in the dark and pushing various buttons to see what they would do, Theodore had come across the video logs and security feed. Most showed young kids growing bored during lesson times and teens throwing food at each other during mealtimes. There were pilot logs recording their journey and the state of the passengers & crew. While few and far between, Theodore cherished them greatly as the only link he had to his ancestors.

It was here that he learned about the fall of Lorien, the subsequent massacre of its people and the brave escape of its Garde children. It was here that he learnt of the Mogadorians plight and hunger for power. He wasn't sure what had happened to the passengers following their arrival on Earth—the logs hadn't gone that far and the few items he had managed to collect from the shuttle showed that they had left in a rush.

Of the few things he had managed to scavenge, the sock raggedy monster was by far quickly becoming his favourite.


	4. Dallas Days: Wherefore Art Thou?

**_January 1960: DAY FOUR HUNDRED & TWENTY-SEVEN_ **

The new year had just passed when he had been about to get lucky with an equally scruffy farmhand in the barn of some farm when they had arrived. As a rule Mogadorians were never subtle, they were discreet and cunning but never subtle; and so as his hands ran through the soft blonde locks, he had tasted ash on his tongue, before the farmhand had even fully been vaporised.

He couldn't remember if he had cried or not, he had definitely growled or roared in despair (less so about the person and more about the unfairness of it all—why couldn't he have nice things?). The following bloodbath had started with loralite claws and ended with a serpentine beast. Where he had once been a jagged and rocky creature fully cloaked in sharp edges and piercing lines; he was now smooth to the touch with loralite layered about his form in a scale-like pattern as he took on a more serpentine form.

No longer the small tractor-sized goblin he had been, the large loralite serpent (now a full conversion of flesh and crystal) easily filled the barn in which they had been hiding. Snake-like muscles roiled over each other in pulsating masses that filled the bulging room. Rickety boards creaked and broke as his head rose from the mass of muscle and he growled down at the occupants pressed between the barn walls and his side lie sardines in a tin can. Four dragon-like claws exploded from the snake-like torso and clawed at whatever they could reach as Theodore slithered about, devouring Mogadorians like a man starved.

Bearing the head of a horned dragon and the body of a serpent, Theodore looked very much like those Taniwha of Maori mythology. With legs that moulded to his like fins, allowing him to move about like a snake and loralite that merged with pale flesh over his muzzle, it was no wonder he inspired fear into the hearts of the very creatures he devoured.

At some point, Theodore would wonder where the form had come from—where had the goblin creature gone? Why a serpent? But those questions were lost to him and it would be a long time before they resurfaced. Much like the years previous, 1960 passed in a hazy blur of endless days; only this time the Human Garde remained stuck inside his serpentine body. At first unwilling to release the form in fear of the hunters return, and then later unable to when beast merged with man.

* * *

**_May 1961: DAY FIVE HUNDRED & FOURTY-SEVEN_ **

Reports of a serpentine creature wandering the outskirts of eastern Dallas reached the ears of many by 1961. Witness said that the creature was easily as tall as a barn and coloured like the blue lakes of the Arboretum & Botanical Gardens it seemed to inhabit. Some said that it would slither beneath the water's surface like a sea snake with beady blue eyes that watched you with an eery intelligence that didn't quite belong on such a creature. Others said that it would hide amongst the towering trees and growl at any who came near its unknown hoard.

Employees from the Dallas Zoo accompanied by several policemen had ventured out on one such report. None had returned and speculation about the beast had only grown, turning it into a fully fledged legend. No one could say for sure what the creature protected so ferociously. There were many speculations of course: money, gold, treasure—because what else could it be in the minds of men? Just as many spent their days trying to prove the existence of the creature as well as its treasure; there were many who tried to disprove the existence of said creature (these adventures often ended in disaster or misfortune). It was like Dallas had garnered their very own Loch Ness.

And with a legend as fascinating as this? It was unsurprising that Sir Reginald Hargreeves had become intrigued. The sector of the recently furbished botanical gardens in which the beast was hidden, was encompassed by towering fir trees and rolling hills blanketed by clouds of mist. A single rickety jetty jutted out across the lake, stopping mere feet from the drop off into deeper waters.

By this point, legend and witness reports had merged together to the point where you could no longer tell what was real and what was fake. But amongst all the jibber-jabber, some things remained true. Such as this, the way in which to call the beast forth. Reginald held the pietersite in between curious fingers, twisting it this way and that as he watched the sunlight bounce off of the shimmering water and twirl around the stone in his hands. And then without much pompous, he flicked it into the water where it disappeared with a small plop.

All was still. Then the ripples started to appear; although sparse at first, the lake soon began to take on the appearance of a bubbling pot as the once clear water turned murky. Hargreeves appeared on the edge of his seat as something rocketed towards the surface, before bursting through the bubbling blue. He could only stare at the creature before him with a shit-eating grin as the beast shook its scaly head, ridding the excess droplets from its muzzle before it turned to him with fangs bared.

Fascinating.

* * *

**_August 1962: DAYS SIX HUNDRED & THIRTY-NINE—SIX HUNDRED & FOURTY-FOUR_ **

**PROJECT CETUS: Excerpts extracted from Sir R. Hargreeves' reports regarding his findings.**

_Appreciably enhanced physical strength and resilience. Development of transformation stunted by animalistic temperament. Inexplicably soothed by violin and sock toy._

_Shift Incident_

_I have found that Project Cetus was simply not progressing in its tests over the passed year as I had desired. It seems to not want to embrace this power. Tonight however, I discovered a new side to the beast. At exactly 00:30 on 4/8/62 something extraordinary occurred. Unfortunately I was unable to witness the shift myself, but several security cameras fitted amongst my laboratory ensured that I was able to catch every single minute of the incident. I had to review the security tapes several times over to ensure that it was, in fact, true._

_With this in mind, I shall increase the difficulty of Cetus' tests and the proclivity for which they are established. Hypothetically Cetus can change at will as shown tonight, but has somehow been unable or unwilling to all this time. More to follow._

_Notes from Incident:_

_-Painful  
_ _-Appears to hold a human form as well as a serpentine one. Remnants of serpent form remains in sporadic scales scattered about his form. Does not care for the nakedness of his human form as seen through several minutes of footage where he remained bare._   
_-More fearful than I've ever seen him_   
_-Tried to squeeze himself through the gated bars._   
_-Appears to be adept at using technology and tools. Scribbled notes in his room show words such as 'Mogadorian' 'Alien sightings' and names including 'Vanya Hargreeves' 'Allison Hargreeves' 'Diego Hargreeves' 'Luther Hargreeves' 'Klaus Hargreeves' & 'Five Hargreeves'_   
_-It would appear that Cetus has created imaginary friends for himself upon hearing/seeing the constant use of my own name._ _Often seen/heard talking to said friends. Mentions of these friends causes severe emotional distress. Refrain from doing so until further notice._

**—Pg 09, _Project Cetus,_ Sir R. Hargreeves**

_Device Incident_

_After 95 days in my care, Project Cetus has revealed yet another fascinating secret. This time I was able to witness a shift in person. This one appeared much more painful than the first; causes are unknown as to why—speculation suggests with the split of two minds becoming one, this may result in the results seen thus far. Alongside the pain Cetus appears to feel after the shift, there appears a small window in which the creature cannot remember what has occurred previous._

_It was in this window that I was able to sedate the young man (early 20s) in order to further my investigations. Whilst under, I was able to discover several things and confirm several more. I propose that this young man will be a wonderful addition to my collection. More tests will have to be done before he can be introduced to Project Pogo._

_Notes from Incident:_

_-Healing factor is incredible. Flesh had to be peeled and propped open to continue investigation._   
_-A combination of my strongest drugs proved ineffective. He was only under for a short period of time. Must find something stronger._   
_-Device embedded in neck appears to cause severe electrical shocks through body when activated. Upon removal & awakening, Cetus was far more co-operative._   
_-Shifts between human and serpent come far quicker and easier. He continues to only shift at night or in familiar company._   
_-Food is hoarded and protected fiercely; likely a habit from his time in the wilderness._   
_-Reminder: Do NOT touch the sock toy. Also, send sympathies to Wilsons' family regarding the death of Doctor H.T. Wilsons._

**—Pg 15, _Project Cetus,_ Sir R. Hargreeves**


	5. Family Reunions are Always Messy

**_16 November 1963_ **

_D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co._ was…odd to say the least. Situated at 82 Olive street, the building was a small (at least compared to the square-block mansion of the Hargreeves' family home) two storey building that housed the various paraphernalia to make an umbrella. Or at least, that was the facade provided. Instead—as he had come to learn—the building was _actually_ dedicated to housing Grandfather's oddities and other curiosities for which he liked to experiment on and with.

It was here that Theodore had stayed for the passed two years, under the watchful eye of his grandfather. The choice to go with his grandfather had not been a hard one, but to stay was a different matter. Just as Mama had described, Grandfather enjoyed his experiments and tests a little too much and with a desire for bigger and better, there was a certain proclivity for them. Which meant that day in and day out for the last two years had been spent participating in (sometimes gruesome) tests until he was pleased.

But Theodore stayed, pinned down by the guilt that rode him day & night about the ever-increasing Mogadorian witch hunts and the possibility of endangering more people, by the grief that he was all alone in this world and the dismal hope that maybe—just maybe—if he stayed with Grandfather, he could pretend like they were a family. It's not like he had anywhere else to go anyway and after five gruelling years in the past (one of which was spent homeless, two stuck in the mind of a beast and two in relative captivity) it was easy for him to lose hold of the hope he had so desperately clung to in the beginning.

"Besides, Grandfather's not so bad" Theodore mused to himself, vehemently denying the truth as he wandered down the darkened hallway with ease. "Sure, he's pretty intense during the tests, but that's just 'cause he wants good results, right? He's just a perfectionist, he can't help it if I mess up from time to time"

Bach sang softly over the speakers as he walked, tracking water along the linoleum floors behind him. His brown braid swished in time to the rustling of his hospital gown as he swung into the break room on the ground floor. "What do you think, Sergio?" He turned to the raggedy sock toy now propped up on the top of the fridge. Its blue and white striped face had faded by this point, and a button eye was missing but Theodore loved it nonetheless. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

 _"Y'know it can't talk, right monkey?"_ Loren drawled.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Theodore childishly snapped back as he considered the two tubs of ice cream in his hands. "Yeah, you're right" He nodded as if Sergio had answered. "Let's go for both!"

Slamming the freezer shut, Theodore snatched Sergio from the fridge and meandered back out of the room, tossing the ice cream lid over his shoulder as he did so. _"You're not even gonna take a spoon?"_ Loren asked.

"What would I need a spoon for?" Theodore replied as he shoved his face into the top and began to eat the ice cream straight out of the tub.

" _Disgusting"_

"Says the guy who eats people"

_"People are nutritious! And at least I have elegance!"_

"Yeah? Well, who am I showing off for? There's NO ONE HERE!" Theodore shouted at the top of his lungs as he threw his arms up in the air and twirled down the corridor without a care in the world. At 22, Theodore was still as much of a child as he had always been; the attitude not at all helped by his minimal interaction with others. In fact, the most he had talked to (even in the beginning) was just Grandfather, (a young Gruncle) Pogo (another experiment) and Doctor Grace (who was a mirror image of Nana, save for her accent).

Much had changed for the Human Garde in the five years he had been stuck there; the most noticeable being his appearance and behaviour. Staring in the reflective surface of the dormant box television in his room, Theodore's shimmering blue eyes roved over the light stubble painting his chin; to the sporadic patches of loralite scales that decorated the edges of his face and crept down his figure in gentle Vs. There were the scars—old and new—that spun beneath the hair and loralite which told his various stories and the freckles that dotted his skin, just as they had always done. And finally there was the Dutch braid that flowed down his back and graced his hips with its curly tail.

Theodore had started wearing his hair in braids such as this after Grandfather had introduced him to the wonders of Norse mythology. He had become fascinated with the Viking warriors within the tales and had even gone so far as to shyly ask Grace to teach him how to braid his hair like they did. After all the tales that Mama had told him about Grandfather, Theodore was sure that the man would have turned his nose up at the action; but he surprisingly seemed to encourage the idea, including the traditions behind them. For every new victory (however small or insignificant) Theodore would garner a new bead to wear. Currently he had about twenty or so little beads interwoven throughout the braid—his favourites were the ones that were made of little stones that had been polished to perfection.

Moving away from the TV, Theodore flopped back on to the small camp bed in the corner of the room as he happily licked at the ice cream tub in his hands. His room was by no means fancy or over the top; in fact compared to his one back in the 2000s, it was much larger and only held the bare essentials (or what Grandfather considered to be the bare essentials). There was the camp bed in the corner that bumped against the box TV, with several blankets pushed haphazardly towards the end and Sergio nestled comfortably against the polka-dotted pillows.

The majority of the room was taken up by a large pool that easily fit his serpentine form inside and the tiled bottom had been painted to resemble a pond. The wall on the left was composed of a one-way mirror that allowed Grandfather to watch him while inside. The wall to the right (including the windows) and the back wall had been painted to look like the botanical gardens he had hidden in for a year. Finally there was the windows seated above the panelling of the right wall that bordered Gruncle's room on the other side. All-in-all it wasn't so bad and a step above what he had before Grandfather had found him.

"Do you think Grandfather still has that stash of jerky in his study?" Theodore mused as he tossed the empty vanilla tub into the bin by the door alongside the chocolate one.

 _"Jerky and ice cream? Seriously?"_ Loren asked skeptically.

"I'm hungry!"

_"So eat your dinner!"_

"But I hate oatmeal!" Theodore eyed the half-eaten bowl off to the side. "It's so gross! And it looks like baby food!"

 _"Emphasis on the 'food' bit!"_ Loren sassed as Theodore sauntered back out the door with Sergio in hand and made his way to Grandfather's study.

"…Still don't like it"

_"See? This is why those doctors think you're spoilt!"_

"It's not _my_ fault the doors are easy to break through! And if Grandfather didn't want me to get out, he'd have blocked the door or something"

_"He did, remember? You just ploughed straight through the window"_

"Yeah, well, that was different!"

_"How?"_

"Ho—how? He—They—That's completely besides the point!"

_"Yeah right"_

"Oh bite me!"

_"I would if I could"_

"Isn't that cannibal—wait do you hear that?" Theodore cut himself off as the sound of footsteps and muffled voices caught his attention halfway towards Grandfather's study. Spinning on his heel the young man padded closer to the noise on silent feet until he found himself standing in the doorway to Pogo's room.

Cocking his head in confusion, Theodore stared at the boy crouched on the floor in front of Gruncle, with his brows pinched as he puzzled over why he seemed to know him. From the dark schoolboy shorts to the quaffed hair and red-trimmed blazer paired with bowling shoes—there was just _something_ that tickled in the back of his brain. Theodore chewed at his lip in thought as the scent of alcohol, coffee beans and sweat drifted towards him. It was a familiar smell, one that told him he should know it—even beneath all the smoke and ash that seemed to blanket the boy—and yet for the life of him, he just _couldn't_ place the boy.

Standing quietly in the doorway, Theodore remained watching as the boy interacted with Gruncle Pogo as if they were old friends. "Pogo…" The boy breathed in disbelief, his voice a mere whisper. "It's good to see you" Theodore winced as the boy reached out to pet Gruncle, knowing full well how the ape would react. And just as predicated, the young ape swipe a clawed hand towards the boy's neck before running straight for Theodore and jumping into his arms.

Theodore's hands reflexively snapped up to wrap around the young ape as he regretfully dropped Sergio to the floor in the same movement. An action which seemed to have caught the attention of the boy as Theodore shifted in the doorway, now with arms full of ape. Theodore continued to stand in the doorway as he studied the boy now clutching onto his neck in obvious pain. The scent of blood now joined the coffee, alcohol, smoke and sweat.

Just as Theodore had studied the boy, the boy in turn appeared to be studying Theodore as Gruncle began to grow more and more agitated in his arms. "Who're you?" The boy asked, rising to his feet and taking a step forward towards the door as he did so. Theodore didn't reply nor did he move, but his eyes remained glued on the boy even as he toed Sergio. That didn't go over well. The toe of his show had barely scraped against the faded fabric when he let a low growl rumble through his chest and bared his teeth in warning, stopping the boy in his tracks.

A glance was spared down towards the toy at his feet and the boy seemed to contemplate it before he bent down to pick him up. "Is this it? Is this what you want?" The boy held it out to Theodore like he was trying to tame a beast; in turn Theodore just growled louder as his arms tightened around Gruncle. _How dare he touch Sergio? How dare he take what is mine!_ Theodore wanted nothing more than to show this little boy what happened when people touched his things (see Dr H.T. Wilsons), but before he could the familiar sound of Grandfather's calls echoed down the corridor.

His ears twitched towards the noise and he made to grab the toy out of the boy's hands, but when Grandfather called again this time louder and more urgently, Gruncle grew agitated once more. Sparing another warning growl towards the boy, Theodore spun on his heel and sprinted down the dark corridor with arms full of ape as he regretfully left behind his most treasured possession. With legs pumping and hospital gown flapping as he ran, Theodore barely registered the sound of footsteps coming to a stop behind him and his name falling from the boy's lips and it wouldn't be until later that he would wonder how he knew it.

* * *

Exploding through the back door a few moments later, Theodore let Gruncle drop to the damp floor of the warehouse as he went to investigate the broken man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood not too far away. Much like the boy inside, Theodore found himself recognising him and yet unable to place him. Bending low over his bleeding form like a scavenging vulture, Theodore cracked his jaw open as spittle stretched from tooth to tooth, blue tinted his vision and the scent of blood flooded his senses. Unlike the boy, this one was close to death and reeking of fear.

Just as he was about to sink his teeth into the man's jugular, the sound of Grandfather's call caught his attention, drawing it away from the terrified eyes of the waning man beneath him. "Cetus! Come!" Grandfather called sharply.

"But _Grandfather—!"_ Theodore whined as the blue film over his eyes gave way and the majority of the loralite scales receded into flesh. It would be such a waste to leave a good meal just lying there. His butt sank to the man's waist as he sat down with a huff, ignoring the way the man groaned in pain at the action.

_"Now"_

"Yes, Grandfather" He relented, shifting off of the bleeding man (how _did_ he know him?) and softly pattered over to the monocled man, where he joined Gruncle in taking up one of his gloved hands. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, the last thing that Theodore saw was the boy bursting from the back door and the disbelieving man still laying in his own blood. Both watched them disappear into the fog without much complaint.


	6. Domesticity, thy Name is Hargreeves

**_17 November 1963_ **

"…Οπλισμένος με τα όπλα του, τη λύρα και τη φωνή του, ο Ορφέας πλησίασε τον Άδη και ζήτησε είσοδο στον κάτω κόσμο. Κανένας δεν τον αμφισβήτησε. Στεμένος μπροστά στους ηγέτες των νεκρών, ο Ορφέας είπε γιατί ήταν εκεί, με μια φωνή τόσο πολύπλοκη όσο και ανησυχητική…" Grandfather's lilting tone drifted out of the window as he read the _Tale of Orpheus and Eurydice_ from one of his many traditional books. This one was one of the few fiction books that he owned and it appeared to be a favourite of his as the book itself was well cared for. Gently gliding against the pool's surface, a few scales brushed the cool morning air as Theodore rolled over in the small peanut-shaped space.

Off to the side at the pool's edge, Gruncle Pogo sat memorised by the glittering blue scales that roiled beneath the water as layers upon layers of toiled muscles languished there in tight coils. Theodore was wrapped around the pool's circumference like a coil of rope that was ever-moving, breathing with the rise and fall of the gentle waves generated by his movements. Grace stood in the back doorway with a cup of steaming liquid in her hands as she watched her pseudo sons play by the pool. The sounds of her partner reading aloud brought a small smile to quirk at her lips.

"…Έπαιξε τη λύρα του και τραγούδησε στον Βασιλιά Άδη και στη Βασίλισσα Περσεφόνη ότι του επέστρεψε ο Ευρυδίκης. Ούτε καν οι πιο πετρόχτιστοι άνθρωποι ή οι Θεοί δεν θα μπορούσαν να έχουν παραμελήσει το κακό στη φωνή του…" Grandfather continued as Gruncle Pogo ran a curious finger over a few of his bare scales as they emerged from the water. Theodore could have sworn that the ape had giggled as they slipped from his fingers and back into the water.

After the break-in at the _D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Company,_ Grandfather had moved them to another secure location; one that was equally as extravagant as the original Hargreeves family home and just as quaint as the laboratory. The estate itself was large, big enough to fit a period home with several wings, plus the rolling hills of the gardens that bordered it. A simple tiled pool sat center-stage in the back yard (likely a recent addition, considering Theodore's addition to the 'family').

Surprisingly, Grandfather had been rather nonplussed about the break-in; almost wiring it off as the work of poorly concealed competitors. Almost, because somewhere in the back of his mind Theodore recognised them, and he wanted to know why. Why had he recognised the schoolboy in shorts and tie? Why did he know the scent of alcohol, coffee and sweat to be home? Just who was this boy with quaffed hair that walked about with an air of self-importance that almost seemed to mirror Grandfather?

And then there was the bleeding man—how did he know _him?_ The one with the beard and shaggy hair, who had dressed in all black and had stared at him with fearful eyes. How _did_ he know that man? Why was his eyes so familiar? Why was it wrong to see them so fearful? So many questions whirled around in his head as he shifted between his watery solace. Despite this all, Theodore knew one thing—he still mourned the loss of Sergio.

* * *

Later that day, Theodore found himself standing on the plinth in the boudoir as Mr Aster (Grandfather's tailor) fitted him for an attire to wear to the upcoming party they would be attending. Grandfather had finally deemed him well enough to be seen by his side in high-standing society—although Theodore was sure it was more to do with showing off one of his curiosities to his peers than his actual progress. After a year or so stuck in his loralite form with Loren melded to his mind (and the year before spent homeless), there were a few habits that had been hard to (re)break.

Twirling the strands of beaded hair framing his face, Theodore's eyes roved over every detail of his newest bead (Grandfather had given it to him that morning for his efforts during the break-in). The bead in question was about the size of his fingernail and was jade in colour. The jade was intermittently dispersed by streaks of gold and blue that spiderwebbed across the surface like cracked glass. With his curly hair tied back in it characteristically long braid, he felt more and more like those porcelain dolls Grace was always comparing him to as the tailor measured him for his peacoat suit.

Turning away from his hair, Theodore's gaze then turned to the large mirror across from him that reflected the three behind him. Standing barefoot on the plinth, his eyes slowly moved up and down his reflection, taking everything in as the tailor knelt at his feet to hem the navy pants he was wearing. Grandfather had specified that he was to wear something that was fitting for the mysterious gala held at the Mexican Consulate tomorrow. It also had to allow him to move between shifts rather easily. In the end, they (the tailor and Grandfather—Theodore had no input) had settled on a two-piece suit in navy with a peacoat-style jacket. The high collared shirt was very Victorian, but it allowed Theodore to hide the loralite scales peppering his neck.

In actuality, Grace was to be Grandfather's plus one and Theodore was to be his ward, for want of a better term (Gruncle appeared rather put out about not being able to attend)…at least as far as the nosy busybodies were aware. 1960's socialites were a breed in unto themselves. Of the few stories Grace and Grandfather had regaled them with about said functions, they were usually looked down upon in disdain (despite being one of them). So Theodore's hopes weren't very high for the upcoming gala.

Grandfather hadn't been very specific in what to expect which was unusual for him. He had explained to Theodore that he and Grace would mingle amongst the lessers for a time before he had to meet with his colleagues privately. In the meantime, Theodore was to mingle amongst the partygoers and generally just enjoy himself (at least that's what he understood between all the Victorian jargon and party etiquette).

This would only change if the time called for it and someone came to fetch Theodore from the party to introduce him to Grandfather's peers. To Theodore it sounded a bit like he was to be paraded about as if to show Grandfather's colleagues and…'perform' for said colleagues, whatever that entailed, in an effort to persuade them to continue to fund his Grandfather's (il)legal operations. If he performed well, Grandfather had promised several more beads in reward—Theodore had never gotten more than one at once and was looking forward to the prospect of it (in the back of his mind he was reminded of some long forgotten experiment involving a cat and treats).

* * *

"It's so far…" Theodore murmured softly as he traced the shape of Virgo with his thumb. With the stars twinkling up above, Theodore found himself tucked into the furthest windowsill of Grandfather's study as he stared up at the starry sky.

 _"Stars often are"_ Loren replied quietly as they watched the dark sky in comfortable silence. All around them the house was quiet save for the constant ticking of the clocks and the occasional rustle of blankets as someone turned over. Theodore could even hear Grace's quiet snores (though she would vehemently deny them) over the soft scratching of Grandfather's calligraphy pen as he worked late into the night.

"Do you think we would've been able to see Lorien from here?"

_"Maybe…"_

"Hey Loren?"

_"Mm?"_

"Do you think we'll ever have a normal life? Y'know, one where we're not hunted?"

_"That be nice. What would you do, then?"_

"I dunno…" He shrugged, "I never really thought about it"

_"Well, what about before?"_

"Hm?"

_"Before all this? Before the war and the Legacies, what did you want to do?"_

"God that was so long ago!" He rolled his eyes back over to the Aries constellation. "I think at that point I wanted to be a vet or a zookeeper—y'know something with animals"

_"And now?"_

"I dunno—I guess…going back to the 21st century would be the first order of business"

_"Back to where we're hunted?"_

"We're hunted here too, they just don't know the difference between Human and Loric Garde"

_"I'm pretty sure we're the only Human Garde at this point"_

"That's not true—remember Barb? Her main Legacy was time travel; she could be here or further"

_"Chances aren't high, though"_

"Yeah, I know" Theodore sighed before turning to look over at his Grandfather hunched over the large mahogany desk with his quill scratching furiously against the parchment.

Grandfather had hung his suit jacket over the back of his chair at some point and exchanged his loafers for embroidered grey slippers that barely encompassed his narrow feet. The monocle that he was never without, was nestled snugly above his cheek (Theodore only knew this because of the reflective glass encasing the artwork above his head) and his crisp white shirt peered out from beneath his silver vest. Grandfather was nothing like what his family had described, and Theodore couldn't help but wonder what turned him into the man worthy of those tales.


	7. Cornstalks & Brotherly Talks

Driving always cleared Vanya's head…or at least it had for as far as she could remember, which admittedly was only the last month or so. But after the sudden appearance of that large man in the barn, Vanya's dreams had only been getting weirder; mixed with flashes of things that just didn't make sense. So she drove. But the last thing she expected to see was a milkman standing in the middle of the road with torch in one hand and pistol in the other.

She had barely slowed to a drawl when the milkman's accomplices emerged from the corn field to her left with guns blazing. Putting pedal to the metal, Vanya quickly sped off down the road, only to swerve off into a ditch where the stupid car stalled. After a few pitiful and fearful attempts at starting the engine, Vanya grabbed the keys and ran into the dark cornfield, hoping to lose her pursuers in the dark maize.

Mere moments later she found herself racing through the stalks of corn, the leaves whipping passed her face as she furiously tried to outrun her attackers. Zigzagging & criss-crossing through the rows, she easily lost sight of the road and it wasn't long before she encountered the trio of blonde men again. Dropping to the floor didn't seem to help, nor did crawling along the ground. Inevitably—like some old horror film—Vanya found herself face-to-face with one of the blonde men and his gun. Looking back, it was an act of pure instinct brought on by the muzzle of the gun shoved into her face as it went off. It was this act that led her to fling her fists up towards the oncoming bullet. There had been small instances throughout the month where little things like this had occurred; she didn't understand the how or why, but she knew that she had a secret confident in Harlan (her employer/caretaker/friends's son).

Fear coursed through her veins and her heart beat loudly in her ears as her vision tinted white and the bullet exploded against the invisible wall in front of her. At the same time, the mysterious gunman was flung backwards into the cornstalks; which in turn became enveloped by the shockwave of her equally mysterious power. Spinning on her heel, Vanya turned tail and ran hoping to find a way out of the maize or someplace amongst the corn to hide in the meantime. After several moments of confusion and frustration, she found a rusted red tractor sitting amongst the stalks and hoped that it would provide enough shelter for the time being. It wouldn't be until later that she would wonder once again, how the _hell_ she had caused that damage she did.

* * *

Vanya barely slept that night, her thoughts more concerned with survival than the blessed release of sleep. So caught up in her twisting thoughts and fiddling fingers that she didn't realise she was still seated atop the tractor's wheel the next morning; that was until the foliage in front of her began to rustle. Her brown eyes quickly snapped to attention, as she hunched in on herself and tried to make herself as small as possible despite the terrible hiding place she had found. It wasn't until a young teen around Harlan's age tumbled out of the crops that she felt herself slump in relief. _Huh._

Her eyes remained locked on the boy, however her expression had turned from fearful and paranoid to confused and puzzling as she tried to figure out just what the _hell_ was going on. The boy was short—maybe a head or two taller than her—and dressed in what was obviously a school uniform, although not one that she recognised. The only odd thing about him was the pair of bowling shoes that he wore.

The boy seemed to pause for a moment as he got his bearings, shaking off the leaves still entangled in his hair as brown eyes roved over the area seemingly looking for something or some _one._ Upon spotting Vanya however, his contempt expression changed to something softer, particularly as he gently parted the stalks she was hiding behind. "Hi Vanya" The boy greeted with a smile.

"Who—who're you?" Vanya stammered as she rose to her feet.

"I'm your brother, Five" The boy replied as if it were obvious. The look of contempt was starting to make sense.

"I have a brother?" She puzzled.

"Look you can either stay here and wait for the Ikea mafia to come back to kill you—" Five offered as Vanya tried to figure out just what was going on. _Ikea mafia? Were those thee guys who attacked me? What did I do?_ "—Or you can come with me"

"W-why—why are they trying to kill me?" Vanya stumbled after her little brother, the information just not quite sinking in. It was all a little surreal if she was being honest.

"Because you're not s'posed to be here, Vanya" Five sighed, pushing aside corn as he mowed through the crops like a man on a mission.

"In Dallas?" Vanya puzzled.

"No, here, in 1963" Five once again stated as if it were obvious.

 _Oh, of course!_ Vanya rolled her eyes, _Because that makes so much sense!_ Emerging from the cornfield for the time being, Vanya couldn't help but gape at the perfectly circular area around them. "Holy shit…" She gaped, eyes roving over the flattened stalks and tiny crater that sat in the dead center. It looked like a bomb had gone off here.

"Yeah, pretty groovy right?" Five smiled before leading her back into the maize on the other side. "It's good to see your powers are still intact; let's go"

* * *

Not even half an hour later Vanya found herself sitting at a lunch counter of a local diner and watching as her little brother, Five, gulped down the black coffee (practically) straight from the pot & the scent of sizzling bacon drifted on the wind. "Aren't you going to tell me what the _hell's_ going on?" Vanya demanded as Five slapped his empty mug back down on the counter and refilled it _yet again_ with the caffeinated liquid he seemed to inhale.

"Hm…When you were a baby, you were bought by an eccentric billionaire" Five sighed, turning to her with a look of contemplation engraved in his young features. She could almost tell without him saying anything that this wasn't going to be the answers she was looking for. "He raised you in an elite academy with six other siblings, with extraordinary powers—" _Why won't he look at me?_ "—But in the year 2019, in order to avoid the Apocalypse we—that's us plus your son— jumped into a vortex and ended up being scattered across the timeline in Dallas, Texas" _What._ "Any questions?"

"…What d'you mean, the 'Apocalypse'?" Vanya puzzled, her mind going to the most concerning news out of the entire spiel.

"I mean the end of the world as we know it"

"Yeah, but _how?"_

"You really don't remember anything? Five queried, his voice soft as he placed his full mug down for the first time since they had arrived. "Not even your son?"

"Nothing before a month ago" She admitted.

"And what _do_ you remember?" Five pursued.

"…I landed in like a back alley, go hit by a car" Vanya explained, her eyes going hazy as she recalled what had happened. "My head was ringing like crazy, I had no idea how I got there or where I came from"

Turning to her little brother, Vanya found concern painted in his big brown eyes as she searched his face for any clue or answer to help fill the void in her head. There was none so she asked. "I have a son?" Vanya puzzled, trying to figure out what hers was like; instead her thoughts kept going to Harlan.

"Theodore" Five nodded, "He just turned seventeen"

"Seventeen…" Vanya's shoulders hunched up around her ears as she stared down at her own empty mug. "Why didn't he come find me?"

"…He might not have known you were even here" Five replied after a moment's pause. "From what I can ascertain, he's been living with our father for some time"

"The eccentric billionaire?"

"That's the one"

"Oh" Vanya traced her thumb around the mug's lip as the information sank in. She had a son, one who likely didn't know she was in Dallas and looking for answers. She wondered if the bottom her coffee mug would have all the answers, maybe that was why Five drank it like it was going out of style? Instead she asked the question which had been burning on her tongue for some time. "What causes the Apocalypse?"

It was such a simple question, one that sounded so innocent when spoken but the way that Five seemed to shrink in on himself told her far more than he would ever say. It was like she was being treated with kiddy gloves—was it because of the amnesia? "…Asteroid impact" Five swallowed thickly as his eyes darted between his hands clasped around his mug and his sister. It almost seemed impossible for him to get the words out without choking on them. "Big kaboom ends everything—it's like the one that got the dinosaurs but _way_ worse—" _Just look at me!_ "—The bad news is it followed us here"

"What do you mean 'followed us?" Vanya pursued. Five turned to her in contemplation.

"…Eight days from now, the world ends in a nuclear doomsday. It's a different disease, but same result"

"…That can't be right—!" Vanya denied with a forced laugh.

"I saw it" Five replied seriously, looking her dead in the eye. "With my own eyes. Hm, you were there, we all were"

Vanya couldn't quite describe what she was feeling and after the weight of information dumped on her in such a short time frame? It was no wonder that she bolted. "Ineedtomakeaphonecall!" She rushed out, before sprinting over to the phone mounted on the wall and snatched up the device despite her brother's protests.

**_BRRRIIING! BRRRIIING! BRRRIIING! BRRRIIING!_ **

_"Hello?"_ Answered the frantic woman on the other end.

"Sissy?" Vanya replied, her perpetually quiet tone filled with concern. If she were to glance up at that moment she would've been able to watch Five grow impatient by the second—or hyper from all the caffeine, it was a little hard to distinguish.

 _"Where are you?!"_ Sissy demanded.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry I took the station wagon"

 _"Oh! I don't care about that car! Are you okay?"_ Sissy worried.

"I'm fine" Vanya hurried to reassure her.

_'What the hell happened?"_

"I—I found my young brother"

_"What…? How?"_

"It's a long story…" Vanya excused, trying to find an explanation that would make sense. None came to mind. "Is Harlan okay?"

_"No, he's—he's not okay—the record player broke and he just—just when the hell are you coming back?"_

"As soon as I can, promise"

_"I'm happy you found your real family—"_

**_BEEP_ **

"What the hell?!" Vanya demanded, turning on her brother as he ended the call prematurely.

"We don't have time for this" Five argued passive aggressively.

"That's my friend you just hung up on!"

 _"Listen_ to me! Those people from the field are coming after us and they're _never_ going to stop. Do you understand me? We _need_ to stick together—find the others, figure out how to stop doomsday. Look, whoever this person is, they can't be more important than the _end of the world._ We need to go"

**_CLICK_ **

Vanya wondered if it was too late to be an amnesiac again.


	8. Party Like it's 1963

**_18 November 1963_ **

Laying on the couch with a sutured stab wound on his bare stomach was not what Diego had in mind when he had escaped from the asylum (nor was the impending Apocalypse 2.0, if he was being honest). Of course, this was helped only by the fact that he was being tended to be a rather pretty girl and fellow escapee, Lila Pitt—but only a little, and he would never admit it. _Was that the drugs or doctor Moncton_ _talking?_ Diego mused as Five paced about the room like an angry little gnat. _Nevermind, doesn't matter. I'm allowed to have nice things._

"So what?" Diego asked skeptically, interrupting his brother's terse and slightly possessive explantation. But he dismissed it, Five had always been like that around Vanya. "You just let her go?"

"Well, Vanya had a lot to process" Five replied as he paced passed them again,"She'll come around, I know she will"

"What about the guys that went after her?"

"The Swedes?"

"Yeah—I mean, how do you know they won't go after her again?" Diego watched with mournful eyes as the steaming cup of coffee that Elliot (the squirrelly guy who owned the old store building they had been squatting in for the passed couple of days) handed his off to Lila, who in turn slurped at the liquid.

"We don't" Five admitted coming around to perch in the chair across from the pair as he accepted one of the spare cups of coffee. _Predictable_. Diego scoffed quietly as he watched his little brother gulp down the beverage. _The one thing you could count on with Five was his love of coffee. And booze. And the impending doomsday spiel. And—okay, so there was more than one._

"Mm…any idea who sent them?" Lila asked from behind the rim of their cup.

_"Oh_ I have my suspicions" Five smiled patronisingly at Lila as Diego snatched the half-empty cup from her. "But right now, our first priority is finding Dad and getting answers 'cause everything else depends on it"

"Which for the record _I_ found him already—" Diego argued.

"—And then let him go before we could have a meaningful conversation"

"He _stabbed_ me"

"I'm surprised he waited this long, Diego, we've all had the urge—"

"Good one!" Lila laughed asking Five for a hi-five which was quite blatantly rejected.

"—Not to mention our nephew nearly ripped out your jugular" Five continued, nonchalantly sipping at his coffee.

"That—that was _Theodore?!"_ Diego spluttered, perking up at the admission, despite Lila's protests to stay still. "What the _hell?!_ He tried to _eat me!"_

"Yeah, well, he probably didn't recognise you" Five admitted with a sigh. "Nearly took my hand off when I found this" The monstrous plushie he plucked from his pocket was well-loved and decorated in faded fabric about the size of an A5 notebook.

"Huh" Diego turned the toy over in his hands after picking it up from where Five had set it down on the busy coffee table between them.

"What do those circles mean?" He flipped the plushie around at Lila's question.

"What ones?" Diego asked, ignoring Five's impatient scowl.

"Those ones—there" She pointed to the collection of circles embroidered into the back of the toy.

"They just look like a bunch of circles to me" His brows pinched in puzzlement.

_"Anyway"_ Five continued, impatiently interrupting their less than stellar conversation. "It's a good thing I know where Dad's gonna be tonight" The next thing Five plucked from the depths of his pockets was a crumpled invitation which he brandished like it was the winning lottery ticket.

"Where'd you get this?" Diego asked, putting the toy down on the coffee table so he could snatch the paper from his brother's hands. Leaning back, he angled the page so that Lila could read over his shoulder.

"Found it at his office while he was busy stabbing you" Five smiled.

"Haha!" Diego forced a weak laugh in reply; one that was full of sass and sarcasm. His eyes then flickered back to the page in hand and began to read:

**_Mr. Hoyt Hillenkoetter  
_ ** _and the  
_ **_Consulate General of Mexico in Dallas  
_ ** _Cordially invite you to a gala to be held at the Mexican Consulate  
_ _on Monday 18th November 1963  
_ _at 5 o'clock_

"Whoa—wait!" Elliot gasped, suddenly interjecting himself from where he had been hiding on the sidelines. "Hoyt…Hillenkoetter? Are you serious?"

"You know him?" Five rose a brow at Elliot in question, sitting up in interest.

"Ooh! We should go!" Lila suggested. "It says there's gonna be a seafood tower!"

"No, Hillenkoetter is—is one of the Majestic 12" Elliot continued.

"What the hell is the Majestic 12?" Diego replied as Lila fed him strips of dried mango.

"What—?" Elliot turned to him in disbelief, before he ran off to some corner of his paper-ridden house to find whatever it was he was looking for. "It's a secret committee—scientists, military, uh deep state—no one knows what they _really_ do"

"Wait—so they're government?" Diego slowly sat upright with a wince; waving away Lila's hovering hands as he did so.

_"Shadow_ government" Elliot corrected, shifting through his papers like a gerbil in a pile of shredded paper. "Kennedy was the first President to try and push 'em into the light, but these guys are _not_ to be trifled with—oh! Here we go!"

Despite the name of the organisation, the photo of the group Elliot provided to them showed eleven, not twelve gentleman sat around a large conference table. "Right here—that's Hoyt, right there" Elliot pointed to the man on the furthest left.

"Huh" Diego hummed in tune with Five who had edged forward and craned his neck to better study the picture.

"I only count eleven" Lila commented, leaning forward over his shoulder to peek at the picture.

"Well, that's because they've only identified eleven so far" Elliot replied ominously.

"Who's the twelfth?" Diego asked the question burning in their minds. The knowing look he shared with Five seemed to say it all: _Dad._

"C'me on the gala's tonight and we have to go—we can ask him then" Five stood up, fists shoved into his pockets alongside the rumpled invitation.

"As if he's gonna tell you anything" Lila scoffed, flopping back against the couch and ignored Five's unimpressed scowl. "He doesn't even _know_ who _you_ are"

"We'll have to dress the part" Five steamrolled on, ignoring her.

"And _where_ are we gonna find clothes for a gala? What? You expect us to raid a _Hallensteins_?" Diego rolled his eyes as the sarcasm dripped off of his tongue.

"You can borrow what I have" Elliot shrugged as he carefully recollected the black and white photo of the Majestic 12. "I have a few suits and Elizabeth left most of her stuff behind—I'm sure we can make it work"

"Time to suit up" Five nodded, carefully ignoring the subject of their host's ex. "We leave in twenty minutes"

"Isn't it until tonight?" Lila puzzled.

"We'll need to take a cab there—it's probably somewhere uptown, off the beaten track" Five easily replied, thinking aloud as he planned.

"These are people with money" Diego explained, speaking from experience—they'd been to enough of these things as kids. "It's gonna be fancy"

"Ooh! Makeover time!" Lila chirped, rubbing her hands together with a wicked grin. Diego suddenly felt nervous at the manic gleam in Lila's eyes and felt himself wondering if Dad was really worth whatever the crazy lady had in store. Five seemed to agree; at least if the wary side-eye was anything to go by.

* * *

The Mexican Consulate was a sight to behold. The entire estate was laden in intricately laid stonework that wove around the exterior like terracotta cobblestones. Evidently, the cobblestone driveway was lined with bushes of blooming flowers that almost seemed to wilt in the evening light. Beyond the several checkpoints and armed guards (from both the American and Mexican consuls), the primly dressed waitstaff stood in the evening chill, waiting to escort the guests inside.

The trickle of 1960s socialites flowed along in splashes of bright/muted colours and high hairstyles as the click-clack of heels against stone followed them inside. Dressed smartly in his new navy peacoat suit, high-collared shirt & tie and low-riding hat, Theodore followed after Grandfather and Grace as they strode towards the flag-marked front door where it lay bathed in the hazy evening light.

Clenching and unclenching his clammy hands, Theodore tried to hide how anxious he was feeling as they stepped inside the busy building. Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves ( _How did Grandfather know this many people?),_ he stepped across the threshold of the consulate and was met with the beat of mariachi music dancing somewhere in the depths of the house. Grace's prideful expression was tempered only by Grandfather's calm & calculating one as a flute of champagne that was all but shoved into his hands by one of the waitstaff, before they were ushered further into the building.

Theodore blew out a quiet sigh as Grandfather turned away with a short nod, making the young man feel as if he had passed some sort of test. Heaving another nervous sigh, Theodore followed after the pair as they floated throughout the party for a time, introducing himself as a ward of Grandfather's to various socialites before he broke off from the pair as they turned to dance.

* * *

Stationed in the corner by the buffet table with his hat pulled low, Theodore anxiously watched as Linda Brown, the daughter of a well-to-do banker, sauntered over to him with hips swaying and a supposedly flirtatious smile on her lips. It wasn't that he didn't like the girl; she was pretty enough he supposed, but with the salacious rumours that floated around her, he was hesitant to get involved (plus the amount of people crowded into one room had begun to overwhelm him already). Especially as he suspected she was only approaching him due to his relation to Grandfather as most of the other socialites had throughout the evening.

Panicked eyes grew wide beneath the brim of his hat as he watched her swing around the passing hors d'oeuvres and made a beeline towards him. _Nope!_ Theodore ducked out of the way, shamelessly fleeing towards the adjacent room in the brief moment that she lost sight of him. Emerging into the hallway, Theodore was met with the sight of Grace awkwardly conversing with one of the men who infiltrated Grandfather's laboratory the day before. Dressed in a loose suit jacket and brown tie, the man was somehow well enough to wander around after the fatal wound Grandfather had dealt him.

_What—?_ Theodore's brows pinched in confusion as he made his way over on quiet feet. The tail-end of their conversation floated over to him as he ducked behind the marble statue tucked away in the corner, briefly safe from Linda's wandering eyes. "…You're a little odd, aren't you?" Grace puzzled as the man shifted awkwardly in place with a look of confusion engraved on his features.

"Yeah" He smiled, making Grace laugh softly. That was until he registered what he had said and immediately tried to take it back. "I mean, no. Uh…Do you know where he is?" Theodore grew suspicious at the man's questions—why was he looking for Grandfather?

"He said somethin' about a quick meetin' and he'd be right back" Grace replied. "That was twenty minutes ago"

"…Never good to keep a lady waiting"

"Tell him that if you find him" Grace raised her martini glass to him as Theodore caught sight of Linda once more.

"Shit!" He quietly cursed, this time striding towards where Grace stood awkwardly next to the familiar and yet strange man.

"Cetus" Grace greeted with a knowing smile as Theodore joined her at her side.

"Grace" Theodore nodded, subtly trying to hide himself behind her slender frame as he ignored the man's puzzled expression searching his hidden face.

"Having fun, dear?" She smiled, hiding behind her glass as her eyes gleamed.

"Uh—" Theodore spared a glance over his shoulder where he found a bright-eyed Linda Brown waving him down.

"Oh Hargre~eves!" She sang, skipping over as she wove between the people gathered between them.

"I—I—!" He blanched, quickly swinging towards the blonde and silently pleading for help as he shoved his clammy hands into his pockets.

"Cetus?" A waiter intoned, suddenly by their side and granting Theodore the escape he needed.

"Oh thank _God!"_ Theodore gasped, quickly shuffling after the waiter as his shoulders slowly smoothed back from where they had been hunched up around his ears. Grace's crystalline laughter and the man's burning stare followed him down the hall.

* * *

After silently twisting and twining through the many blank corridors of the Mexican Consulate, Theodore was finally led to a single door where a creative knock was performed on the door. What faint whispers he could hear beyond the door were quickly silenced as the waiter fled, leaving Theodore to face the jury alone. "In" Grandfather opened the door, quickly shooing him inside as paranoid glances were shot back down the corridor.

"Sir" Theodore nodded; back straightening and shoulders stiff as he strode inside with confidence he did not feel.

Once inside, Theodore found himself in a wooden-encrusted drawing room with eleven unknown men in black business suits. Some sported fedoras & black-out sunglasses, whilst others puffed from curly cigars and drank from crystalline glasses. They each wore contempt and an air of pompousness like a cloak. "Is this it?" Laughed a portly man as he swirled his dark drink in idle hands. "You promised us a bloodthirsty beast, not some kid in bowler hat!"

Theodore silently turned to Grandfather with questioning eyes; who nodded in turn. Pulling his low-riding hat from his head, the young man let his beaded braid fall down his back and turned pure blue eyes on the portly man before him. Cocking his head just so, his lips pulled back in a wicked grin and he felt the loralite scales decorating his face pinch and pull on his flesh at the action. "What? Did you pull this kid from the circus?" His drunken laughter increased into full-body shakes. Normally Theodore wouldn't use his powers in this way—at least not on humans, but Grandfather had given him the go-ahead and the man was starting to piss him off. A single gloved hand shot up towards the laughing man who soon began to splutter and choke, grasping at his neck as his eyes bulged out of their sockets. Theodore's grin had slipped into something a little less sinister and a little more focused as he slowly squeezed the life out of the portly man; savouring his suffering if only a little.

Around them, the other ten members seemed to stare at the show with calculating expressions that ranged from inquisitive in nature to something Theodore couldn't quite describe. It wasn't until Grandfather petted him once on the shoulder that he let the portly man go. "Je—Jesus!" The man cursed as he gasped for air and dropped back onto the couch, spilling his drink.

"He can do this…?" One asked as he ignored his colleague spluttering on the floor.

"And more" Grandfather purred, polishing his monocle.

"Hm, yes" Murmured another man as he sucked on his pipe. "A good investment indeed"

Suddenly the faint sound of jackets rustling behind them caught his attention and Theodore snapped around to face the small closet behind them. All eyes followed his. "Shh!" Grandfather hissed as Theodore tip-toed towards the closed panelled door. Gone was the lighthearted atmosphere of the earlier conversations, instead replaced by something a little tense as the young man stood in front of the panelled door.

Blue eyes peered through the slanted slats, one hand shining with loralite as his fingers sharpened into claws. Theodore moved in a very snake-like fashion, his head swaying from side-to-side as he peered through the gaps in the door. A dark figure could be made out amongst the coats as they tried to hide themselves away. The scent of sweat, coffee and alcohol burnt at his senses and he was reminded of the boy who had infiltrated Grandfather's laboratory alongside the shaggy-haired man.

Ignoring the impatient mutters from the men behind him, he shot forward like a viper and slashed straight down through the door. The wood shattered into splinters at his touch and the mutters behind him ceased. In the same moment the scent disappeared and the dark figure beyond the wooden panelling disappeared as Theodore retracted his arm from the closet. Turning to Grandfather, Theodore opened his crystallised fingers to reveal the scrap of navy & red woollen fabric he had managed to snag from the spy. "We've been compromised!" Muttered one man, who glared at the scrap of fabric like it had offended him. "Regroup at the back-up location"


	9. Snake in the Grass

Slipping through secret passageways and spinning under spiralling staircases, Theodore eventually found himself outside in the dark with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his shoulders up around his ears as sirens wailed around him. In the mad rush to leave, he had abandoned his hat in the drawing room which left the poor young man to hide in the shadows of the Mexican Consulate as he watched his guardians hope into their waiting car. "This is gonna be a long walk back, isn't it?" Theodore sighed, watching Grandfather hold the door open for the blonde woman who slid inside.

_"Better start walking"_ Loren agreed.

"All right" He breathed out a put-upon sigh before he began to trudge back through the wet grass of the primly-kept gardens and down the gravel driveway that led to the main road.

Theodore had barely made it to the main road when he was stopped by the call of his name and the sudden appearance of a boy in his way. "Hey!" Blue-tinted eyes turned to the shaggy-haired man who jogged up to him as the boy appeared out of the blue with a whoosh. "Hey Theo! Where do you think you're going?!"

"Excuse me?" Theodore puzzled as he shifted to face the pair at once; their figures easily seen in the dark due to his Legacy. He was exhausted from the emotional drain that was the party & presentation and he wanted nothing more to go home and sleep.

"What _the hell_ was that in there?!" The boy demanded, getting up in his face.

"I'm sorry—?"

"We're you _trying_ to kill me?"

"Do I know you?"

"Do you—!"

"What are you talking about, kid?" The shaggy-haired man queried as he crossed his arms and shifted in the dark. "We're your uncles"

"Uncles?" Theodore shifted in the dark, "I don't have any uncles"

"Yeah, you do" The man's brows furrowed as he shared a look with the irate boy. "From your mother's side"

"I'm Five" The boy introduced pointing to himself and then slung a thumb towards the man. "And that's Diego"

"Uncle Five & Uncle Diego…?" Theodore murmured to himself as he turned his gaze to the tar at his feet in confusion, "Why does that sound familiar?"

Before either of his supposed uncles could say anything further, the night was illuminated by sparks of red and shouted commands accompanied the sound of a petrol-guzzling engine. "Shit!" Theodore quickly shoved the trio apart and ducked out of the way; easily spinning to the side as the familiar gunfire shot down the road and fizzled off into the dark. A quick glance towards the two showed them getting to their feet from where he had pushed them; they appeared fine apart from the scowl and sour expressions.

The reprieve was short-lived however as the vehicle that Theodore had heard, approached them at top speeds. Ignoring the curses to his left, the young man swung up a splayed hand towards the incoming truck and telekinetically yanked it up into the air so that the bonnet was facing the ground. Teeth grit at the effort, Theodore held the vehicle perpendicular to the road as he studied the darkly dressed occupants inside. "Shit!" Cursed Uncle Five, mirroring his sentiments at what he saw.

"You know these guys?" Uncle Diego questioned, a little more occupied with the fact that his nephew had suspended a truck in the air, right in front of their faces.

"Yeah, they were there when I saw the Apocalypse had followed us" Uncle Five replied.

"Well, who the hell are they?!"

"Mogadorians!" Theodore snarled before Uncle Five could answer as he filed away the information for later. Both uncles spun to face the snarling young man with questions burning in their eyes and on their tongues.

"How do _you_ know these guys?" Uncle Diego demanded of his nephew.

Theodore didn't reply, instead he simply clenched his trembling hand and watched as the truck slowly groaned and creaked as it warped beneath his telekinetic grip. Pained shouts and the squelch/crunch of broken bodies sang in their ears as the vehicle was wrung like a washcloth, before the Human Garde carelessly tossed it aside. Despite the interruption provided by the sudden appearance of the Mogadorian force, Theodore was far more preoccupied with the revelation of the two uncles beside him. Even as his ears pricked towards the sound of footsteps fast approaching through the field of blooming sunflowers on the other side of the road; he turned to the two before him (as they both bore varying expressions of disgust and shock at what had just occurred). "Uncle…Five" Theodore hedged as something clicked in his memories, "He's the one…with the coffee obsession & the doomsday spiel, right?"

"I am _not_ obsessed with coffee!" Uncle Five huffed irritably as he surveyed their surroundings with arms crossed.

"Yeah, you are, Five" Uncle Diego smirked, as he too appeared tense at the suddenness of their situation. Although he warily eyed his nephew and the apparent calmness in which he seemed to emanate at that point in time, reminding him of a certain sibling.

"And Uncle Diego" Theodore continued, ignoring the banter between the two. "That's the grumpy one with the—" He mimed stabbing someone (although it looked more like he was jerking someone off) which made Uncle Diego glare at Uncle Five who had chuckled at the motion. "—With the decorative knives, right? _Is_ that right?"

"Decorative?" Uncle Diego puzzled, turning to his nephew as he fingered one of said knives. "They're not decorative"

"Yeah they are—like the ones Mama has" Theodore shrugged as some long-forgotten memory pulled at his brain. "Y'know, the ones she has in her memento box"

"I _knew_ it!" Uncle Diego crowed as his eyes shone in the dark at whatever memory had sprung to mind. "I _knew_ I didn't lose them!"

**_PEW! PEW! PEW!_ **

"Oh yeah" Theodore commented, cocking his head to the side as loralite scales instantaneously spread across his flesh like water and more alien gunfire exploded from the flower field as the rest of the Mogadorians advanced. "Forgot about them"

"Forgot about them?!" Uncle Diego reiterated as he hit the deck, cowering away from the gunfire with a grouchy Uncle Five beneath him. "Just what the _hell_ is going on?!"

"They're Mogadorians" Theodore replied as if it were obvious as he began to shed his new suit despite the incredulous looks he was receiving. "They kill Garde" Next he toed off his loafers and set them next to his nicely folded blazer. "I kill Mogadorians, class dismissed"

"That doesn't explain anything!"

"Look" Theodore—garbed in only his underwear and socks—paused at the edge of the dark field and turned back to his cowering uncles as gunfire chipped away at his loralite scales. "They're here for me, so just stay here, okay? You'll only get in the way, otherwise"

"What?!" Uncle Diego turned wide-eyed towards his blue nephew, looking at him as if he were a stranger. "Are you insane?!"

"Probably—look, just _stay here!"_

_"_ No!" Uncle Five jumped to his feet, blinking out from beneath Uncle Diego with much difficulty, and letting the shaggy-haired man collapse the short distance to the ground as he appeared next to his nephew. "I forbid it!"

_"Oh_ you do, _do you?"_ Theodore quirked a brow at the worried boy.

"Yes! I forbid you to fight these—these aliens!"

"Yeah? Just _watch_ me!"

With that Theodore slipped between the dark flowers, easily moving amongst the reedy foliage as the sounds of muttered curses sounded behind him. When he deemed himself far enough from his uncles, Theodore wrapped his arms around himself and folded backwards as his body shifted into its serpentine form. Bones cracked and groans sounded as flesh moulded into loralite; expanding and growing at an exponential rate. It wasn't long before two minds became one and they rose out of the sunflowers with fangs bared.

Glaring down at the Mogadorians now cowering before _them,_ they coiled tight like a spring and watched with beady blue eyes as the ant-like creatures fired uselessly on them. Hunger curled tight in their gut and then serpent pounced, all attention focused on the blackened Mogadorians at his feet. The earth rumbled and roiled beneath their feet as they clawed over the earth, pushing aside the flowers as if they weren't even there. Soon enough, the opposing aliens fell to powerful jaws and sickening claws as they were gulped down one by one (alongside the occasional stray sunflower).

Before long Theodore found himself kneeling on the flattened and ashy flowers as he cradled his burning head in his hands; the night quiet once more. As Loren and Theodore separated back into two minds, the sound of soft curses and quiet footsteps approached him from the road. "Kid?" Uncle Diego's voice floated through the haze as his feet came to a stop next to him.

"Nn?" Theodore grunted.

"You…okay?"

"Mm" Theodore hummed, blinking rapidly as the pain abated and he came back to his senses—now aware that he was sitting naked in a sunflower field.

"Okay" Uncle Five interjected impatiently as Uncle Diego threw his clothes at his nephew. "What the hell was that?!"

"What was what?" Theodore asked as he slipped the dress shirt over his head.

_"That!_ That snake—you—them—just what the _hell_ is going on?!"

"I remember now!" He grinned, hopping slightly as he slipped into the suit pants. "You hate not being in charge! Ha!" Off to the side, Uncle Diego snickered at the exchange.

_"Theodore!"_

"What?"

_"So help me God—!"_ Uncle Five motioned wringing his neck. _"I have half a mind to put you over my knee, right now!"_

"I'd like to see you try" Theodore smirked as he turned away, stuffing his tie into his pocket as he did so.

"Ooh, I'd pay to see that!" Uncle Diego laughed in the background as Uncle Five grew more irate with each passing moment; like a hamster on crack.

_"THEODORE JAMES—!"_ Uncle Five exploded; now burnt crimson.

"…It'll— _burp!—_ It'll be easier to show you" Theodore acquiesced, trying to hide his grin as he watched his smallest uncle grow redder and redder in the face.

* * *

"It's just over here" Theodore led the way through the overgrown marsh as his uncles followed behind; one a little less impressed than the other.

_"This is a bad idea"_ Loren repeated as the trio grew closer to their destination. _"They're gonna get us killed!"_

"Will you shut _up?!"_ Theodore hissed under his breath, ignoring the odd looks he received from his uncles who had undoubtedly heard him nonetheless. The stars twinkled between dark clouds up above as the trio marched through fields and down back roads on their journey to the Loric shuttle that Theodore had discovered a couple of years back. Even in the dark, the path to the shuttle was ingrained in the young man's brain due to the many trips to said vessel over the years.

After hurdling a fallen log, the Human Garde was able to easily discern the tail fin of the shuttle jutting out of the pond up ahead. Upon approaching the partially sunken vessel, Theodore was able to further make out the once-sleek exterior that had rusted away with time and erosion, as it jutted out of the dark pond waters like a long-forgotten toy. "What—what is that?" Uncle Diego asked, squinting his eyes in the dark as if it would help him to see better.

"It's a Loric shuttle" Theodore replied as he quickly picked his way over to the vessel and began to scale the exterior in order to reach one of the larger holes.

"A what?" Uncle Five added.

"A Loric shuttle. It's one of the few escape shuttles that made it to Earth after the fall of Lorien" Theodore replied as he perched in the opening of the hole and spared a glance back at his uncles. "Coming?"

The interior hadn't fared any better than the exterior; there were exposed wires hanging from the ceiling that sparked when jostled and missing panels from previous scavenging attempts by various parties (Garde & Human alike). It was only when both Uncles Diego and Five had joined him inside (after much cursing and smarts comments) that Theodore drifted further into the dark vessel.

**_BONK!_ **

"Damn it!" Theodore exclaimed, banging his head on an exposed pipe as he climbed over some debris.

_"Haha!"_ Loren laughed, just as he did every time.

"Kid?" Uncle Diego queried at his sudden exclamation.

"Ugh! _Every_ time!" Theodore groaned as he rubbed at his aching forehead briefly before he slid down the elevated floor and caught himself on the crumbling corner.

"Now what?" Uncle Five rose a brow in question as he sat on a creaking pipe adjacent to the wall. With the nose of the shuttle submerged in the dark water, the only way to get to the rest of the ship was through the dark waters below them. As if in response, Theodore quickly became covered in loralite scales that turned his features a little more serpentine as crystal moulded with flesh.

"Don't tell me…" Uncle Diego groaned as he watched Theodore haul himself up to the exposed pipes above the corridor between them and his eyes took on the familiar blue film.

"C'me on Uncle" Theodore teased as he gripped tight to the creaking pipes above the dark and watery corridor that led to the cockpit. "Leap of faith" With that, the last of the loralite scales flitted across his muzzle as he let go, dropping down into the dark waters with a small plop.

Small bubbles escaped from Theodore's nose as he descended into the dark depths, twisting and turning through the gaps created by the broken vessel as the beads in his braid glinted alongside his scales like a fish underwater; glittering like a signal flare for his uncles to follow. Paddling over to the broken stairwell, Theodore quickly made his way up to the top hatch that led to the observation deck and the only pocket of air in the submerged ship. After flinging the hatch open with a bit of effort, Theodore was able to pull himself up and in to the air-filled room where he was soon joined by a rather wet Uncle Diego and Uncle Five who stumbled to a landing atop the tilted table after teleporting in.

"What is this place?" Uncle Diego asked as he spun around in a circle, trying to take everything in. Off to the side, Uncle Five was busy snooping through one of the make-shift bookshelves.

"I told you, it's a Loric shuttle" Theodore replied as he rooted around in one of the large drawers; trying to remember where he put the USB drive for the video logs he had salvaged at some point. "Where _is_ it?"

"Where's what?"

"The—" Theodore turned to answer just as Uncle Five knocked against the table and turning it on, revealing the last viewed file. It just so happened to the thing he was looking for—honestly it was a miracle that the tech was still working after so long. "Oh! You found it"

"What _is_ it?"

"They're the video logs from the occupants" Theodore replied absently as he flicked through the holographic files with practised movements. "Most of them are just video diaries and security feeds"

Silence fell over the trio as both uncles continued to snoop around the room, ducking beneath musty hammocks, delving into large chests and flinging open long cabinets in their search; leaving Theodore to flick through the old and corrupted files as he looked for the one he wanted. "Hey Kid" Uncle Diego piped up as his gaze remained glued to the two water-damaged photos in his hand.

"Mm?" Theodore hummed, his own eyes still glued to the holographic images.

"What're these?"

"Hm?" Abandoning his search of the files, he turned to face his uncle and the two pictures in hand. One was of a group of Garde (Loric & Human alike) smiling at the camera with the shuttle in the background, and the older one was of the Council Nine kids gathered together in a formal portrait.

"Oh, that one's the Garde and that's the Council Nine" Theodore replied, pointing to each picture as if it were obvious.

"The what and the what?" Uncle Five turned to the conversation.

"The Garde are children born with Legacies—uh, powers" Theodore amended at his uncles' confused expressions. "And the Council Nine are the top nine Garde who develop more than one Legacy—they're the ones that are chosen to be the next generation's Council. See?" He pointed to the portrait of the Council Nine, "That's One, Two and Three"

"Why're they numbered?" Uncle Five perked up.

"They don't get they're names until they're ascension as Council—if ever"

"Why?"

"It's just how it is" He shrugged. "Anyway, One, Two and Three are dead by 2010. And that's Four, Six, Seven, Eight and Nine—they start the rebellion in 2011. The little chubby one is Five—he's a traitor—" Theodore tried to ignore flinch from Uncle Five at that. "—And the little one is Ten"

"Ten? But you said it was the Council _Nine"_ Uncle Five reminded him.

"Yeah, she's, uh, more of an honorary member" Theodore replied. "Her grandfather is a current Council member and traitor, so…"

"What?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty big mess"

"So those—" Uncle Diego interjected.

"—Mogadorians?" Theodore supplied.

"Yeah, them" He nodded, "Is that why they're hunting you? They think you're one of these Garde kids?"

"No, _I_ _am_ a Garde; just not a part of the Loric Garde"

"What?"

"I'm a Human Garde"

"How's that any different?"

"All Garde are born with their powers, right?"

"Right"

"Well, the Loric's powers can manifest at any point in their lifetimes whereas a Human's can only manifest after Earth's Entity is awakened—which admittedly isn't for another 48 years"

"Wait—what?"

"How do I put this?" Theodore muttered to himself as he tried to simplify the explanation. "Uh, a Human Garde is a youngling born from the coupling of a Loric and Human"

"But that would make you 56 not 22!" Uncle Five pointed out.

"What're _you_ talking about?" Theodore turned confusedly to his smallest uncle, "Lorics have been interacting with our planet since we crawled outta the caves—they're our sister planet"

_"What"_

"Didn't you know this? Lorien and Mogadore are the only two other planets in our solar system that supports life—or they were"

"…I think my mind just exploded" Uncle Diego admitted in disbelief as he collapsed back on to the wall behind him.

"Yeah, it _is_ a lot" Theodore agreed amicably.

"Wait, so—" Uncle Five shook his head as he tried to make sense of all the information suddenly dropped on them. "We… _didn't_ bring these…aliens to Earth?"

"No" Theodore shook his head, "The Mogadorians have always hunted the Garde—last time 'round too—but uh, the war didn't culminate until 28 March 2011"

"Huh?"

"New York City becomes ground zero" Theodore's gaze grew hazy as old memories flitted through his mind at unearthly speeds and his hands held onto his forearms tightly as they sat crossed against his chest. "It was horrible"

"You were there?" Uncle Five queried, a brow raised as his concerned eyes flitted over his nephew who leant against the table with haunted eyes.

"Mmm" Theodore hummed absently. "It's not something you forget easily"

"…Uh" Uncle Diego shared a glance with Uncle Five who looked like his whole world had been flipped on his head.

"Hey, Theodore" Uncle Five shook himself as he plucked a random book from the shelf. "What's this?"

"Huh?" Theodore blinked rapidly as he was pulled out of his memories and turned to the object held out to him. He couldn't stop the cheeky grin spreading across his lips as he read the title "Oh, that's uh—yeah, that's porn"

_"Haha! Monkey needs to get laid!"_ Loren cackled as Theodore watched his uncle blush at the admittance.

"Actually, y'know what?" Theodore snatched the book from his uncle's hand, easily accepting the olive branch for what it was. "That's not half bad…"

**_BEEP BEEP BEEP_ **

"Uh…the table's beeping" Uncle Diego pointed out, breaking through the awkward atmosphere.

"Hm?" Spinning around, Theodore found himself facing something that hadn't happened in a long time. "New message?" He easily read the Loric script as both uncles joined him at his side. "But that's not possible"

_"Open it, monkey!"_ Loren begged, _"Open it! Open it! Open it!"_

"Alright, alright!" He muttered as he clicked on the little blinking box. What he found made his heart stop. "Holy _shit…!"_ With eyes blown wide and focused on the familiar rhyme on the screen before him, Theodore paid no mind to the reactions of his uncles. "Loren, are you seeing this?!"

_SCHOOLS OUT, SCREAM AND SHOUT!  
_ _HIDE AND SEEK WE SHALL PLAY,  
_ _UNTIL IT COMES THE DAY_  
_WHEN WE SHALL RISE AND CRY  
_ **_WE ARE HERE!_ **


	10. Breakfast at Elliot's

**_19 November 1963_ **

Sunlight streamed in through the broken blinds as Theodore rolled over with a groan, twisting into the scratchy blankets as he shoved his face into the couch upon which he slept. Sergio was tucked tightly into his neck where he had snuggled into him at some point in the night. Uncle Five had (mercifully) returned the toy after the trio had returned to their current base of operations, in an old rundown department store that lay at the rear of the alley in which he had first landed all those years ago. After returning from their foray into the Loric shuttle and the Mexican Consulate, Uncles Diego & Five, plus Theodore had returned here and blissfully slept away the last remaining hours of the night.

It was only the scent of burning eggs coupled with the need to pee that pulled Theodore from his warm nest of blankets with another quiet groan. Popping his back as he stood, the young man let out a satisfied sigh as his eyes took in their host's home. He was a rather odd man, and it came out in his decorating skills (or lack thereof). From the emerald green walls that were wallpapered in various clippings sporting headlines about alien sightings, to the scribbled notes and recording devices stacked together in one corner of the room. It practically screamed 'TINFOIL HAT!' _Milton would've loved this guy._ Theodore mused as he slipped on the pair of jeans that Uncle Diego had managed to scavenge from somewhere (he suspected illegally). The rumpled dress shirt (from his suit) and maroon, white and blue-striped cardigan that he wore was something he had borrowed from Elliot (their host) which hung a little loosely on his wiry frame. But who was he to complain?

Following first his bladder and then his nose, Theodore eventually found himself rooting through Elliot's kitchen looking for something to eat. Over at the stove Uncle Luther stood swaddled in Elliot's bathrobe and his pyjamas; he appeared relatively normal (if better) than the last time he had seen him, save for the crusted cut on his lip were Theodore had hit him the night before and the slowly healing black eye. Apparently Uncle Luther had lost his job the night beforehand and had shown up while everyone was out.

Theodore grinned as he watched his giant uncle try to add another dozen eggs to the already overcrowded pan like it was no big deal. Some of the sizzling scrambled eggs had already toppled out of the pan and had splattered against the porcelain stovetop despite his best efforts. Easily sliding around his uncle's large limbs, Theodore nicked a handful of scrambled eggs from the top of the pile much to his hairy uncle's disgust, before he danced over to the pantry to look for breakfast, shoving the handful of eggs into his mouth as he did so.

"…No, no, no, I don't understand!" Uncle Diego continued to complain as he paced irritably about the kitchen. "They keep following me! Those Dutch sociopaths!"

"They're _Swedish,_ you idiot" Uncle Five corrected as he leant against the doorframe of the kitchen with yet _another_ mug of coffee in his hands. "Hired guns paid to eradicate us before we do any more damage to the timeline"

"Yeah, but why now?" Uncle Diego turned to Uncle Five. "I mean, I've been fine for three months until you showed up"

"Yeah, I was here a year and no one messed with me" Uncle Luther nodded.

"Yeah, but that's probably 'cause you're built like King Kong" Theodore teased as he plucked a can of peaches from the pantry and made his way over to the table, using a loralite claw to slice off the lid. "But if it helps, I was here for five years and haven't seen hair or hide of these Swedish nut jobs" Picking the sliced peaches out with his fingers, Theodore ignored the guilty look on Uncle Five's face as he rambled.

 _"'Course, that could've had something to do with the killer death elves on our tail"_ Loren commented, mentally mirroring Uncle Diego's look of disgust at his appalling table manners.

"Heh, yeah that too" Theodore grunted, once again ignoring his uncles' reactions.

"Look, even _if_ it was my fault—which it _isn't!"_ Uncle Five huffed. "We only have six days before the end of the world and the closest anyone's gotten to Dad was when Theodore was living with him!"

"Well," Uncle Luther sighed, sparing a nervous glance at them. "That's not exactly true"

"What do you mean?" Theodore garbled around the peaches in his mouth as Uncle Diego glared at him again.

"I saw him" Uncle Luther grabbed a large serving bowl and dumped all of the eggs into it. Turning off the stove, he grabbed a ladle and trudged over to the end of the table (which all but sagged under his added weight). "When I showed up, I tried looking for all of you. When I couldn't find you, I scrounged up enough money to take a bus back home and when I got there, I found him & told him about me—about us. He basically told me I was crazy, and that even _if_ I was his kid, I would have better manners & smell better…whatever" He shook his head as if to dispel whatever thoughts were running rampant in his head. "Apparently he hates kids—sent me packing and I came back to Dallas"

"That's pathetic!" Uncle Diego snorted as he plopped into one of the spare seats gathered around the small kitchen table.

"Well, at least he didn't shank _my_ ass!"

"No bro, he shanked _your_ heart!"

Theodore snorted good-naturedly as he watched both his uncles bicker like children, happily munching on his slowly diminishing can of peaches as he did so. "Yeah, what's that 'bout, by the way?" He asked, curious.

"What do you mean?" Uncle Luther turned to his nephew who had propped his feet up on the chair next to him. "I thought Five said you lived with him?"

"Well, yeah" Theodore shrugged, "But there was none of this chauvinistic bullcrap—I mean, he pinned Pogo's pictures to the noticeboard in his office, for Christ's sake!"

"Pogo? As in ape-butler, suit & tie, Pogo?"

"You know another Pogo?"

"Wait! Wait!" Uncle Diego interjected, incredulously. "Are you saying that _Dad_ played housewife?"

"Well, I wouldn't say housewife—"

"No, I mean, he didn't punish you or anything?" Uncle Diego's expression had turned a little sour as he realised that his own father was more of a parent to his nephew than to his own children.

"Well, no, he did—" Theodore hedged, a little wary at the sudden look of vindication gleaming in Uncle Diego's eyes. "—But I also ate a person, so I s'pose it was justified"

"You—what?" Uncle Five choked as he came to sit in the seat currently occupied by Theodore's feet. At the same time, Uncle Diego spluttered on his retort and Uncle Luther turned pale at the admission (but still continued to eat his eggs).

"Well, I got stuck as a giant blue snake for a year or so" Theodore replied as he drained the can, tipping it all the way back as he slurped up the juices swimming at the bottom. "There's bound to be a couple of things that are a little fuzzy"

"Fuzz—You _ate_ a person?!" Uncle Diego spluttered.

"Thereabouts"

"There—" Uncle Five pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he heaved a sigh, almost as if he didn't think he should have to ask the question. "How many people _have_ you eaten, Theodore?"

"Eh" Theodore shrugged dismissively, "I dunno—most of 'em were Mogs, if that helps" He added at the sickly parlour and expressions his uncles had taken on at the admission.

"How—how can you not know?!" Uncle Diego demanded, stammering over his answer as he glared at his nonplussed nephew.

"Well, it's not like I always remember what happens when I'm a giant blue snake" Theodore shrugged, slapping the empty can onto the table and began to eye up the half-eaten eggs in front of Uncle Luther.

"You don't remember? How can you not remember? Is it part of your Legacy—powers or whatever?"

"Eh, I dunno, you'd have to ask Loren"

"Loren? Whose that?"

"Y'know, the loralite?"

"That blue crystal? It's _alive?"_

"Well, yeah" Theodore replied as he snagged another handful of eggs from his uncle's plate. Uncle Luther glared at him and protectively pulled the bowl in closer. "He talks to me and stuff"

"About what?" Uncle Five hedged.

"This and that" Theodore shrugged, stuffing the eggs into his mouth. "He's kinda like the Devil on my shoulder"

 _"I am not!"_ Loren piped up.

"Yeah you are" Theodore fired back.

All three uncles shared a look before Uncle Luther went to ask whatever question was burning on his tongue. Thankfully, Elliot chose that moment to interject into the conversation and turn it away from Theodore. "Is that…my bathrobe?" Elliot questioned as he padded into the kitchen, and easily cut through the awkward atmosphere lingering in the room.

"No…" Uncle Luther mumbled in to his eggs.

"Look" Uncle Five huffed, shooting a look towards Theodore that promised he wasn't done with this conversation, "Who cares what Dad did? He knows something about time travel!"

"Um wait" Elliot interrupted again, "Wait, why don't you just do your thing and, uh, time travel us out?"

"Anyone care to explain?" Uncle Five grunted as he hauled himself to his feet and went to pour himself another cup of coffee.

"Last time he tried, he got lost in the Apocalypse" Uncle Luther began.

"Second time he tried, he ended up without hair on his balls" Uncle Diego continued, making Theodore snort at the comment.

"The last time I tried, I scattered my family across the timeline in Dallas, Texas" Uncle Five ended, sassily gesturing the full mug to make his point. "Any _more_ questions, Elliot?"

"Uh…no" Elliot murmured, a little put-out.

"Look" Uncle Diego leant forward in his seat as the idea was dismissed, "You're all missing the big picture, here. _Dad_ s the ringleader of a sinister cabal that's planning to _kill_ the President"

"This again?" Theodore sighed as he plopped his hand into his palm and leant against the table. The entire way back to the city, Uncle Diego wouldn't stop going on and on and _on_ about the plot to kill JFK, and Grandfather's involvement in it—which, yes, while true was annoying as hell. It was like Uncle Luther's obsession with the moon.

"Ignore him" Uncle Five advised, "Look, the way I see it, we only have one option"

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" Uncle Diego haughtily questioned.

"It's time to get the Umbrella Academy back together"

"Woo!" Theodore halfheartedly cheered as his thoughts swirled around the guilt involving his mother. "Family meeting!"

"Okay, then can one of you guys grab Allison, please?" Uncle Luther jabbed moodily at his eggs.

"You two still a thing?" Uncle Diego quirked, leaning forward ever-so-slowly when Uncle Luther paused."Do we need to talk?"

 _"He wants to talk? That's new"_ Loren commented. Theodore grunted in agreement.

"No, she's _married!"_ Uncle Luther fired back.

"Cool, new uncle!" Theodore said in the background.

"Whoa, dude, that's rough" Uncle Diego sat back.

"I can handle it" Uncle Luther shovelled another ladleful of eggs into his mouth, effectively dismissing the forced chuckle that had followed his reply.

 _"I'll_ get her" Uncle Five huffed, slamming his empty mug down on the counter. "Can you get Vanya without, uh, murdering her? Or incurring the wrath of our nephew?"

"I'll try" Uncle Luther replied dryly as he eyed the suddenly dark glare he was receiving from Theodore in warning.

"Wait!" Elliot pursed his lips and turned to the remaining three as Uncle Five teleported away, "What should I do?"

"Prepare for company" Uncle Diego replied ominously.

"I'll help" Theodore hauled himself to his feet as he wiped his hands on his pants.

"What should we make?" Elliot immediately darted over to peer into the fridge.

"What's popular right now?"

"Ooh! Jell-o salad!" He perked up with a bright grin.

"Come again?" Theodore blinked dumbly.

"It's the best!" Elliot replied, plucking ingredients at random and shoved them into his arms. "It's super simple to make! You'll love it! I promise!"

* * *

When all was said and done, the green monstrosity that the pair had produced was nestled in a large bowl and decorated with a variety foods that Theodore could never hope to name. _"Still not the worst thing we've ever eaten"_ Loren commented as Theodore went about setting down the glass bowls and metallic spoons on the coffee table. That was until a familiar voice echoed throughout the building making Theodore freeze.

"I don't know about this, Luther…" Mama hedged as they ascended the stairs.

"Five has something he needs to tell us" Uncle Luther replied hesitantly, "It shouldn't take too long"

"If you say so"

**_CRASH!_ **

Elliot fretted about like a mother hen when the glass bowl slipped from Theodore's fingers and shattered at his bare feet, but the young man was far more preoccupied with the woman before him. Gone were the white iris' and pale complexion, instead replaced by warm smiles and brunette locks that framed her face like always. She no longer held herself timidly, but walked with an air of confidence he had only seen a few times as a child. "Mama…" Theodore breathed as his eyes roved over her small frame.

"Theodore…right?" Mama questioned, making the guilt swirl in his gut again.

"Y-yeah, that's me" He stammered before internally shaking himself and moving to wrap her in a hug, mindless of the cuts now peppering his soles. "It's—it's good to see you" His voice was thick with emotion as he hugged her close and buried his face into her shoulder.

"Five said you were seventeen…" Mama trailed off, her words muffled by his own shoulder.

"Yeah, I've, uh, been here awhile" Theodore replied, tightening his hold on his mother as tears threatened to fall. "…I missed you"

"Why didn't you come find me?" She asked quietly, as Theodore reluctantly pulled away from the much-needed hug and scrubbed his misty eyes.

"That's a little more complicated" Theodore replied, unable to meet her eyes.

"So uncomplicated it"

"Um…"

Like some weird sixth sense, Elliot interjected himself into the conversation again just as Theodore floundered for something to say. "Jell-O?"

"Yeah, alright" Mama shrugged eyeing her son in much the same manner that Uncle Five had done only moments earlier.

Soon enough, Uncle Luther, Uncle Diego, Mama, Theodore and Elliot were gathered around the small coffee table that was laden with the Jell-O salad and a jug of red punch as Elliot regaled them with useless facts about gelatine and Jell-O to the grossed-out Hargreeves. "…Y'know, Jell-O used to be a delicacy" Elliot proudly stated, "In order to make it, you gotta boil down a mess of hooves—y'know, horses, cows, pigs, doesn't matter—but not everyone has a mess of hooves just lying around. It wasn't until, uh, a couple of sassy New Yorkers figured out how to dry it out so that the rest of us could have a—a chance to enjoy this ambrosia"

 _Yeah, I've had ambrosia._ Theodore eyed the substance warily as it was spooned into the waiting bowls. _And this ain't it._

At the same time, Uncle Diego played with one of his knives on the couch next to him. Across from the two, Mama slouched almost perpendicular to the couch and Uncle Luther stared down at the green substance in distaste. "If we have some, will you shut up?" Uncle Diego drawled, flicking the knife around.

"Maybe" Elliot replied amicably, handing Uncle Diego the first bowl. "Here"

"How're you feeling?" Uncle Luther turned to Mama.

"Pretty shitty, to be honest" Mama admitted.

"Where would you say you are on a scale from one to…ending all life on this planet?" Uncle Diego pursued. Theodore whacked him in the arm for the comment, but was otherwise ignored. Guilt continued to roil in his gut and he felt sick as his age stayed glued on his mother. _Did I do this? Should I have played with her mind?_

 _"What's done is done, monkey"_ Loren schooled, _"Nothing you can do about it now. Just let bygones be bygones"_

"Really?" Mama quirked a brow at Uncle Diego, unaware of the mental battle warring in his nephew.

"Diego, _put the knife away,_ you idiot" Uncle Luther scolded. "She's fine"

"The last time I saw this one, she had me suspended in midair and was sucking the life outta me with an energy tentacle" Uncle Diego sassed, "I think I'm allowed a little time to process"

"Ooh! I would _love_ to see an energy tentacle!" Elliot brightened.

"No" Uncle Luther shook his head, eyes wide as he turned to the squirrelly man and silently warned him to leave it alone.

"I don't remember what I did, but I'm sorry if…if that means anything" Mama sat up.

"It does" Uncle Diego paused, "I'm just going through a lot right now…There's this girl that I like, I thought she liked me, but turns out she's—"

**_DING!_ **

The sound of bright laughter echoed throughout the building and effectively cut through whatever mushy atmosphere had encompassed the room. "Oh _thank_ God!" Uncle Luther exclaimed as he jumped to his feet and made his way over to the railing.

 _"That's a little ironic coming from him, innit?"_ Loren chuckled. _"Y'know it's bad If the big sappy monkey has had enough!"_

 _Yeah, yeah._ Theodore dismissed as he joined the others at the railing and looked down to see that Uncle Five had returned with a _very_ drunk Uncle Klaus (who bore the same shaggy mane & goatee as Uncle Diego) and a tipsy Auntie Allison (who's major difference appeared to be her hair—now straight and brunette with bangs) laughing together like little schoolgirls.

"Oh wow!" Uncle Klaus gasped dramatically upon seeing all of them lined up in a row as he slipped off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt. "I know this is impossible, but did we _all_ get sexier?"


	11. Apocalypse 2.0

"Vanya…" Allison breathed in disbelief, her wide eyes glued to her sister after roving down the line of neatly organised Hargreeves (plus a man she didn't know—likely the owner of the building). So many emotions flitted through her as she stared at her carefree sister, such a stark difference from the last time she had seen her—heard her.

"Can't believe I have a sister!" Vanya smiled, rocking on her heels before everyone descended the stairs to greet the two.

"I missed you" She admitted.

"Thank God _someone_ else did" Vanya replied, as the two moved in to hug each other, clutching tightly even as Klaus joined the hug. Over Vanya's shoulder, Allison spotted her (much older) nephew, Theodore, who stared at Vanya with thinly veiled hurt and guilt in his eyes.

"Hi!" Vanya bubbled happily into her shoulder, making Allison laugh at the muffled sound.

"Hi Vanny!" Klaus replied, affectionately pecking her head.

"Klaus" Five interrupted promptly, "Is Ben here?"

"Oh, uh, no" Klaus replied sarcastically as he pulled out of the group hug. "No, unfortunately ghosts can't time travel" Allison searched Klaus' face at the comment to see if he was telling the truth or not, but it was hard to tell. What she _did_ notice was Theodore wiggling a finger in his ear (as if trying to clear it) as he looked towards the living room display behind her with a confused expression.

"Alright then" Five sighed, hands in pockets and all very business-like as he traipsed back up the stairs. "Let's get down to business"

"Hey Diego" Allison called, turning to her moody brother across from her as everyone followed Five back up the stairs. "Can't say hi to nobody?"

"Hi Allison" Diego mumbled.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"HI ALLISON!"

"THANK YOU!"

With a stern look from Five towards the strange man who had been hovering about like a bad smell, the Hargreeves were left to drape themselves across the furniture laid about on the second floor. "All right, first off: I wanna say I'm sorry. I know I really screwed the pooch on this whole going back in time and getting stuck thing" Five sighed, getting right to it as Allison plopped down next to Vanya on the couch across from Theodore who lay lengthways, and unwilling to budge despite Klaus' silent protests. Diego remained standing and Luther chose a stool at the back of the room. "But the real kick in the pants is we brought the end of the world back here with us"

"Oh my God again?" Klaus turned with punch glass in hand to see everyone sporting similar looks of guilt. "Wait! _All_ of you knew? Why am I always the last one to find out about the end of the wo—Oh my _God!_ My cult is gonna be so pissed! _Five!"_ Klaus whined as he helped himself to the booze and punch left out. "I told 'em we had until 2019!"

"We have until Monday" Five corrected. "We have _six days"_

"Is it Vanya?"

"Klaus!" Allison scolded.

"What?" Klaus whined again, "It's usually Vanya!"

"Do you have _any_ leads Five?" Vanya softly asked as she turned to their smallest brother who stood at the front of the room with the same commanding presence that their father used to wield.

"Yeah, we have one" Five replied, taking the manilla file from Diego and plopping it down on the coffee table so that they could all see.

"Holy shit!" Allison exclaimed as everyone leant over to see the single grainy image attached. "Is that _Dad?"_

"Yeah" Diego answered solemnly.

"That's him?" Vanya queried as Klaus looked over their shoulders.

"And he's standing on the grassy knoll"

"Diego and I have been trying to talk to Dad about what exactly this means" Five continued, "So far, we got nothing"

"Not nothing" Diego refuted, "We know he's planning to kill Kennedy"

 _"Maybe,_ but we don't know who or what sets doomsday in motion; _could_ be Kennedy, _could_ be something entirely independent"

"Why're you looking at me?" Theodore tiredly groused, lolling his head towards his smallest uncle from where it had laid on his crossed arms. "I _told_ you already, they were here last time"

"Who were here last time?" Allison clarified.

"Mogadorians" Theodore supplied.

"What?" She puzzled.

"Aliens" He grinned.

"…Seriously?" Luther furrowed his brows in disbelief.

"Oh ho!" Theodore laughed joylessly as he rolled his head back to stare up at the muted ceiling, "You don't know what shit you've stepped in!"

"And _you_ do?" Allison rose a brow in question. Theodore just grinned sardonically in reply, looking scarily like Five in that moment.

 _"Anyway"_ Five interjected, "We know something changes the timeline and we have to make it right again"

"Yeah, but how do we fix something if we don't know what's broken?" Allison retorted, sparing a watchful glance at her nephew.

"Oh _c'me on!_ Do the math!" Diego snapped, "We _know_ Dad's having shady-ass meetings with some shady-ass people. We _know_ he's on the grassy knoll in three days to _kill_ the President. So I think we all _know_ what we have to do"

"Find Dad" Five chorused in time with Diego's reply.

"Kill Dad" Diego overlapped Five's answer.

"This again?" Theodore sighed, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow as Five and Diego stared each other down like predators at the watering hole.

"Well, none of us are s'posed to be here, right?" Vanya proposed. "I mean, what if it's us? Has anyone here done anything to screw with the timeline?"

The awkward pause in response almost seemed to answer her question as the Hargreeves stubbornly refused to meet gazes; their expressions painted with looks of faux innocence and guilt. Luther of course, held no qualms about throwing Diego under the bus which in turn set things rolling again."…Diego's been stalking Lee Harvey Oswald" Luther admitted.

"And you're working for Jack Ruby!" Diego fired back.

"Allison _has_ been very involved in local politics" Klaus went next, lips pursed and draped across the armchair like a rag doll.

"Okay, _you_ started a cult" Allison fired back vindictively as Five rocked impatiently on his feet.

"At least he didn't _eat people_ like Theodore!" Luther defended his brother, slinging a pointed finger to their nephew.

 _"Hey!_ I was a giant blue snake!" Theodore propped himself up onto his elbows as he defended himself. "I don't even remember half of it!"

"I'm—I'm just a—a nanny on a farm" Vanya finally added her two cents, looking a little overwhelmed by the information just thrown at her. "I don't have anything to do with all of that"

"Well maybe you do, and we just don't know it yet" Allison replied.

**_FWEET!_ **

"Listen to yourselves" Diego admonished patronisingly, after whistling to catch their attention. "Everything in our new lives is connected to Kennedy. That can't be a coincidence! Luther works for jack Ruby, Allison is protesting Government, Theo is eating people, Dad is on the grassy knoll and Klaus is…doing something weird and pervy, but probably related. See? Clearly, we were all sent back here for one special reason: saving John Fitzgerald Kennedy"

"Oh God! It's like listening to one of Milton's Tezcatlipoca rants!" Theodore whined teasingly, "Make it stop!"

Allison snorted into her drink as everyone turned on each other (herself included) as they argued over the relevance of Diego's argument. _Why was vigilanteism always his go to?_ Allison wondered as she argued with her brother over whether or not to kill their father and trying to ignore the very familiar feeling that she had had this very same conversation when Vanya had tried to destroy the world the first time around. Knowing her family, Allison knew that they could argue 'til the cows came home unless interrupted. It seemed that was Five's job today. "Guys, you all di~e" Five's quiet voice broke through the chatter, voice cracking as his eyes misted over. "I was there, I saw it. And—and I wanna forget it, but I can't"

Silence reigned as everyone turned to look at him, Klaus and Theodore even sat upright as Five continued on with his story. "I saw Russian nukes vaporise the world with all of you in it" He frowned, "In a war that shouldn't have happened yet until we brought it here. And Hazel gave…gave his _life_ to save us, so you may need to _shut up_ and just—just _listen_ to me"

Allison couldn't remember a time when Five had been so vulnerable with them before; sure she had spied on him and Vanya as kids because her sister appeared to be the only one that he could tolerate out of the seven of them (well, maybe Ben too). But it was odd seeing him like this, like the weight of the world was far too much for him to bare. She frowned as concerned eyes washed over her brother and his sad words washed over them. "…I don't know if the things we've experienced here are all connected. I don't know if there's a reason for everything, But Dad will. We need to talk to him before everyone and everything we know is dead" He then turned to their nephew with a solemn expression. "Theodore"

"Hm?" Theodore hummed, looking up from his hands.

"What can you tell us about these aliens and the war from before?" Five asked as he finally took a seat in the armchair next to him.

Turning from her brother to her nephew, Allison was met with the same hunched shoulders and haunted expression that pulled at her heartstrings. Theodore looked like Five had asked him to spill his darkest secrets—and maybe he had. "I—I can't really tell you what happened during the war; just the basics I learned after" Theodore rubbed a thumb over his left wrist which he stared at like it held all the world's answers. "I was so young when it happened—I don't remember much of it" He swallowed thickly as if the words had become stuck in his throat. "But I can tell you the basics"

"That's fine" Five replied unusually soft as his eyes watched the repetitive and almost soothing motion of his nephew's actions.

"So, u-um" Theodore stammered unsure of where to begin or unwillingly to. "There are actually two other planets that sustain life in our solar system: Lorien & Mogadore—or they did. Lorien is our sister planet & they've been, uh, interacting in our history ever since, well, forever—they're the ones who taught us culture, language and the like when we were crawling outta caves, so y'know" He shrugged as he moved to fiddle with his fingers. Allison almost felt like she was listening to a history report at school. "Any—anyway, uh, about er, 5-6 years ago Lorien fell to Mogadore—big war, not great. Uh, the Garde—that's children born with extraordinary powers, like myself—were shuttled to Earth; which took about a year. Once on Earth, the Loric survivors were met with Human Garde—that's descendants of a Loric-Human coupling—anyway, once here they were scattered across the planet and hidden. A year later, Mogadorian scouts showed up and the hunt for the Council Nine began. Any questions?"

"Council Nine?" Vanya helplessly grabbed onto the last piece of information thrown at them.

"They're the top nine Garde who're raised to be the next council—they're the ones who are born with more than just the basic Legacies—er, powers"  
"Wait—so, are you saying you're alien?" Luther piped up.

"No, I'm a Human Garde. My mother was Loric though—my birth one" Theodore replied, still not looking at them.

"So why—?"

"—Why is Mama raising me and not my birth mom? It's Loric tradition; those who show potential for the Garde are raised outside of their parents—usually by grandparents or extended family. As far as I remember, my father's grandparents raised me for a bit 'til the war; then everything went tits up, so…"

"War?"

"Right, uh…" Theodore returned to his hunched position as he continued to explain. "So the witch hunts began in 1959 and they continued for several decades. Uh, One of the Council Nine was eventually discovered and killed in 2004, Two in 2007 and Three in 2010—there's this ritual of some kind that makes certain that the Council Nine can only be killed in order, I dunno what it is" He shook his head as if disagreeing with something unsaid. "Anyway, uh, Five was captured at some point and turned traitor. Um, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine and Ten began the rebellion in 2011. Seven & Eight die, and Ten reunites with her Grandfather, effectively turning traitor as well"

Allison spared a glance towards her siblings as Theodore sighed heavily. It seemed that Diego and Five knew some of this as they look less surprised than the rest of them. Even though she knew that her nephew was talking about other people, she couldn't help but picture herself and her siblings in the place of these Council Nine kids—couldn't help but picture them dying and fighting in a war they shouldn't be in.

"The Mogadorian fleet arrived on Earth on the 28 March 2011" Theodore continued, his thick voice washing over them like water over rocks as his eyes grew vacant with old memories. "It was horrible"

"Teddy?" Klaus prompted, coming to sit next to their nephew as he drunkenly slung his arm around their nephew and pulled him into a side hug, shaking him from his memories.

"Uh, r-right" Theodore mumbled as he moved to play with Klaus' fingers, seemingly far more interested in the multitude of rings decorating his fingers. "With the awakening of Earth's Entity, all Legacies of the surviving Human Garde were activated and the tide turned. The war was won, the fleet was banished and _all was well"_ The last part was spat almost mockingly.

"What about after the war?" Diego queried.

"I don't wanna talk about it" Theodore quickly replied as the remaining glass bowls on the table began to creak and groan like they were being squeezed.

"Well, how else are we s'posed to know what we're up against?" He pushed. The bowls began to rattle.

"No" Theodore stubbornly refused, shaking his head in reverence.

"C'me on kid—"

"Just _leave it!"_

**_BOOM!_ **

_"Jesus!"_ Allison threw up her hands in front of her face as the bowls exploded, sending glass flying everywhere. Startled cries sounded around her as her siblings each jolted at the sudden painful rain. Mercifully, most of the glass had nicked at her dress rather than herself. Across from her, Theodore had curled up in to Klaus' side like a limpet and was all but shaking as he turned away from them like a scared child.

"Way to go, Diego!" Klaus sang, turning a scratched and lazy smile to his brother who slowly rose from behind the chair he had sheltered behind. Allison bit her lip against the grin threatening to pull at her lips as she was reminded of Klaus' familiar ribbing.

"Shut _up!"_ Diego hissed, but no longer pushed their nephew.

"Right" Luther sighed, getting up from his seat at the back of the room before anything else could be said. "So, I'm out"

"Did you even _hear_ anything, Luther?" Five glared at Luther as he made to walk out.

"Yeah, yeah I did" Luther nodded. "I heard a 22 year old man who's telling stories for attention—" Allison felt her heart leap in petty vindication as Theodore turned to glare at her brother. "—And a 58 year old man who still wants _Daddy_ to come and fix everything. Well, you can count me out. It's time we all grew the _hell_ up"

"Luther!"  
"Luther! Come back!"

"Where ya going?"

"Hey, Big boy!" Chorused the siblings as Luther stormed out.

"Save it, Diego!" Luther retorted as said brother followed after him anyways. Five huffed before blinking out after them; Allison heard the telltale noise of her brother reappearing as he landed in front of his brother.

"No one leaves until we figure this out" Five scolded, his tone warning Luther not to push him any further. Allison didn't hear a response from Luther but the sound of Five suddenly blinking away accompanied Diego's comments and Luther's fading footsteps gave her a good enough idea.

No sooner had their three brothers left did Klaus bring up his suggestion. "Y'know I could _really_ go for some tacos right about now, Allison? Tacos?" He played with the bowl of ambrosia he'd been able to save.

"Tacos?" Allison questioned, "Shouldn't we wait?"

"Oh y'know those guys" Klaus dismissed, "It could take them forever to _bro it out"_ He turned to Vanya for her vote, "Vanya? Tacos?"

"Is there any way that tacos…are gonna cause the end of the world?" She asked hesitantly.

"I mean, there's only one way to find out, right!" Klaus danced to his feet, taking Theodore with him. "Come along, little alien!" He sang, weaving an arm through Theodore's as he dragged their despondent nephew down the stairs. "Let's go!"


	12. Project Cetus Extracts

**_December 1962: DAYS SEVEN HUNDRED & FIFTY-THREE — SEVEN HUNDRED & SIXTY_ **

**PROJECT CETUS: Excerpts extracted from Sir R. Hargreeves' reports regarding his findings.**

_Appreciably enhanced physical strength and resilience. Development of transformation stunted by animalistic temperament. Inexplicably soothed by violin and sock toy._

_Crystal Generation_

_What I had once thought to be crystalline scales that covered his [Project Cetus'] flesh in a thinly translucent layer, are in fact naturally generated crystals that form beneath the skin and are pushed through much like a cat's claws or a porcupine's quills._

_The make-up of this crystal is unlike any mineral I've ever seen on Earth, and may contain many secrets I have yet to unfold. There are many endless possibilities with such a valuable source such as this. Further testing will have to occur._

_Notes:_

_— Crystal generation process appears painless  
_ _— Cetus refers to crystals as "Loralite" May pertain to origins of Project.  
_ _— Durability of crystal is ineffable; able to withstand many rounds of gunfire before the crystal begins to chip away. More tests to follow.  
_ _— Loss of crystals appears painless.  
_ _— Does not keep well. There appears to be a small window in which the crystal can sustain form outside of Cetus' form/control before it turns to ash._

**—Pg 22, _Project Cetus,_ Sir R. Hargreeves**

_Nightmares_

_After reviewing a culmination of Doctor A. Duke's notes regarding Project Cetus' therapy sessions, I have discovered several things once hidden to me. The first being the contents of his [Project Cetus'] violent nightmares and what they may pertain to._

_It is true that in dreams we travel to various planes of existence, but the repetition of certain dreams often alludes to certain moments in one's lifetime that causes such dreams. In the case of Project Cetus, these moments are seen through several violent dreams that have resulted in the subconscious activation of his powers. Duke has noted that these dreams appear abnormal even for a man of this age._

_Notes:_

_— Subconscious use of telekinesis during nightmares appear to be an instinctual reaction of protection. This is also seen in the raised crystalline scales when angered.  
_ _— "School" appears to be an operation of some kind: Government? MI5? KGB? CIA? More research required.  
_ _— Mentions of the "School" result in various stages of lockdown in Cetus. Not recommended if already temperamental.  
_ _— Cetus has mentioned repeated dreams involving "Deans" "Teachers" "Scouts" a "Headmaster" and "Students" These appear to be codenames for certain groups. "Students" are children with similar powers as Cetus, "Teachers" are heavily armed soldiers (possible source of previous abuse), "Scouts" are weaker alien warriors, "Deans" are the top alien warriors (often intermixed with scientists) and "Headmaster" is the leader of the operation.  
_ _— The worst of the dreams involve "empty bodies" and "mass graves" as the unfortunate results of power extraction from one child and implantation into another. Cetus refers to this as "Legacy Augmentation" Appears to be quite affected by this process & refuses to expand further on the details of it._

**—Pg 30, _Project Cetus,_ Sir R. Hargreeves**


	13. Day Drinking 101

Theodore couldn't be sure how long they'd been at Auntie Allison's place of work (a hairdressing salon in south Dallas), but he was no longer despairing over past regrets; instead he drunkenly giggled as Uncle Klaus regaled them with hilarious tales and anecdotes from over the years. "…Did I ever tell you guys about the time I waxed my ass with chocolate pudding?" Uncle Klaus cackled behind a screen of smoke.

"No!" Auntie laughed as she clipped back Theodore's hair and brandished the scissors like weapons of war. Somehow she had convinced the young man to shorn off his long locks, insisting that he could repurpose the beads in his hair for a necklace or something of the same calibre. Currently, they sat piled high on the counter before him amongst the pink curlers and empty bottles of alcohol.

"It was so painful!" Uncle laughed hysterically.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Theodore perked up as he was reminded of something similar; grinning back at his aunt when she playfully whacked him over the head for moving.

"Ye~s?" Uncle Klaus drawled as if he were a teacher calling on a student.

"My mate Milton had the same thing done to him!" Theodore giggled, "But his sister used melted Crayolas and duct tape!"

 _"No way!"_ Uncle appeared scandalous as he tightly crossed his legs, likely remembering how the pudding had felt.

"He cried so hard!" Theodore cackled, remembering how his friend had sworn up and down that he would _never_ piss off his sister again. The promise was short-lived.

The radio crackled in the background as Theodore swung his short legs back and forth above the linoleum floor from his seat pushed all the way up. At some point tacos had been waylaid by the booze (both shop-bought and homemade) and the quartet had remained at the hairdresser's with their vodka, moonshine and tunes to keep them company.

 _"Ooh!_ The nerve of that man!" Auntie exclaimed as she twirled a lock of Theodore's hair in her hands. "I mean, one thing goes wrong and he's on the warpath! I mean, he _doesn't know who I am?_ No, no, no Ray! You know _exactly_ who I am! _You_ just can't handle it! I—I'm protecting him!"

"From what?" Uncle drawled from the corner where he sat languishing behind the register. The rings of smoke he was blowing reminded Theodore of the caterpillar from _Alice in Wonderland._

"The end of the world, for one" Auntie replied patronisingly as she hacked at her nephew's hair with the scissors.

"Is the world _really_ gonna end in six days?" Mama questioned from across the room where she had been miming blowing up a line of empty beer bottles.

"…Well" Auntie and Uncle shared a look, "It did last time and we did everything Five could think of to stop it"

"Hey, wouldn't it be weird if Five grew up all hot?" Uncle proposed, going to fill up his pocket flask.

"Ugh! Ew!"

"Gross!"

"Yuck!" Chorused the other three occupants of the bare salon.

"Oh! Ew?" Uncle turned to Auntie mockingly, "Oh please miss Luther-was-my-lover!"

"Uncle and Auntie?" Theodore spun his chair around as Auntie turned on Uncle with scissors and booze in hand. "Eh, y'know I can kinda see it—you'd have hairy moon babies"

"Hey! We have _never_ even kissed!" Auntie vehemently denied.

"Yeah, but you guys were making lil' sick moon-dogs eyes at each other all through puberty and breakfast and all that" Uncle replied, snorting at the image that his nephew had painted.

"Aren't we all siblings?" Mama queried.

"Well" Auntie paused as she returned to cut off the last of Theodore's long locks. He then proceeded to bob his head back and forth in awe as he relished in the sudden lack of weight straining on his head. "Technically—"

"—Technically!" Uncle gasped, stumbling over his slurred words in the rush to get them out. "If you have to word—if you have to use the word 'technically' you're already in trouble! Haha!"

Theodore knew in the back of his mind that he would likely regret the sudden urge to cut his hair tomorrow when the influence of the booze had worn off, but for now he relished in the hazy bliss that covered his brain like a film and the carefree attitude that came with it. Slurping at his latest jar of moonshine though the cray straw that Uncle had somehow procured, he glanced over to see his mother the happiest she had ever been. It was odd seeing her so happy and carefree when he was so used to the timid and shy creature of his childhood. It was because of this that his guilt warred with his happiness over the (possible) damage incurred from the memory wipe all those years ago. _It's not really hurting anyone, is it?_ Theodore mused as Mama's laugh bubbled passed her lips as Uncle drunkenly stumbled around like a spider on roller skates.

"C'me on!" Auntie complained as she collapsed into the chair next to Theodore and propped her feet up on the stool next to her. "Can we focus? I mean, we're _clearly_ not saving the world tonight but maybe— _maybe_ we can try to _save_ my marriage!"

"No!" Uncle whined as he lathered the floor with beer. "Because that's like—that's like asking a nun how to—how to _hump_ someone's leg!"

"Ha!" Theodore snorted so hard that it felt like the moonshine was bubbling up his nose.

"I mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships? This one—" Uncle continued on with his Ted talk as he pointed to Mama. "In secret love with some farm Frau—!"

"—Her name is Cissy!" Mama interjected.

"Cool!" Off to the side, Theodore swung his legs back as he painstakingly threaded his beads onto a piece of string that Auntie had managed to scavenge from the depths of one of the drawers. "New Mama—or is it Auntie? Gramma?"

"Which is an improvement on her previous on her previous love interest…the _serial killer"_

"Yeah, he was cre~epy!" Theodore sang.

 _"What?"_ Mama perked up.

"Later" Auntie mouthed as she waved away the question with panicked eyes.

"Meanwhile" Uncle carried on as if no one had spoken, "I—I'm carrying a torch for a soldier who I haven't technically met yet—"

"—Ooh! Auntie! He used the word 'technically!" Theodore not-so-quietly whispered to his aunt in a conspiratorial tone. Auntie just laughed and gulped down the vodka in her hand.

"—And Luther is…in love with his sister"

 _"Okay!"_ Auntie reiterated. "Again, we are _not_ biological"

"Face it—the only thing the Umbrella Academy knows about love, is how to screw it up!" Uncle toasted.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not a part of the Umbrella Academy, innit?" Theodore giggled as he tried to knot off his newly fashioned necklace.

"Ooh! I sense gos~sip!" Uncle sang, pouncing on a spare stool and rolling forward on his stomach like a fat penguin over ice. "Do tell!"

"There's nothing to tell!" Theodore laughed, "But— _hic—_ but Danny down on the old brook is _glorious_! _Mmm!_ Like sex on legs!"

"Ooh?" Uncle pursued as he bonelessly slid to the hairy floor at Theodore's feet. "What did li' ole Danny do?"

At the prompt, Theodore couldn't help it as his hazy thoughts drifted back to the memory of the two rolling around in the pond reeds that night. A goofy smile spread across his lips as his giggles turned to loud purrs and blood rushed to his cheeks. "Oh my God!" Auntie perked up at the sound, "Is he—are you—is he _purring?"_

"He's doing a lot more than that!" Uncle cackled when his eyes landed on the unmistakable bulge in his nephew's pants.

"Ugh! I feel like I shouldn't be listening to this!" Mama complained as she slapped a hand over her eyes. It only made Uncle cackle louder as Theodore came out of his memories to find his family splayed about the room and the blood rushing to his crotch.

"Haha! Oops!" He giggled down at his crotch, feeling all sorts of bubbly.

Across from him, Mama was cautiously peering out from behind her hand as Auntie silently toasted to the ceiling with her half-drunken bottle. "Hey—Hey, how do you guys deal with this?" Mama asked as Theodore jumped to his feet and began to dance around, swinging his hips like a lunatic and completely nonplussed about his sudden boner.

"With what?" Auntie questioned dryly.

"I mean all of it: time travel, seeing the dead, aliens, the end of the world?"

"Well" Theodore spun around as Uncle turned to fill up his flask once more. "I drink" He brandished the jar of moonshine he'd snatched from the counter. "Uncle gets _really_ high" Uncle Klaus toasted with his smoking cigarette. "Auntie—Auntie…lies to herself" Here, Auntie Allison kicked the stool towards her nephew who easily caught the stool and plonked himself down, spinning around to face his mother. "And you—you suppress _all_ your emotions deep, _deep_ down until…you blow shit up"

"Yeah…" Mama sighed, "I'd really like to not do that anymore"

"Ooh! I forgot!" Theodore perked up, "You also play violin"

"Huh"

"Yeah, you used to have one but it turned white" Theodore explained, ignoring the frantic expressions suddenly painting his aunt & uncle's faces. "Hey! That's a cool name! Vanya Hargreeves: The White Violin!" He laughed, waving his hands about as if he were presenting a sign. "You could be a superhero!"

"Me? Yeah right!" Mama laughed.

"Yeah, yeah! Like that time you beat the shit outta Mr Henderson and that pink gorilla!"

"That doesn't even sound real, Teddy!" Uncle laughed. "You sure it's not a dream?"

"…That would explain the taffy elephant" Theodore mused, "But how would you know? You speak to oogie-boogie ghosts!"

"Oogie-boogie?" Auntie snorted, dribbling only slightly.

"Yeah, y'know with the buzzing and the gah!" Theodore mimed _Thriller_ claws as if it made total sense.

"Buzzing?" Uncle paused, clueless. "Ghosts don't buzz. They—they scream and wail, but they don't buzz"

"Yes— _hic—_ yes they do! Like flies!" Theodore vehemently exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at him "Or maybe it's _you;_ do you buzz Uncle? Are you one of those spirit box thingies?"

The last question startled a snort out of him as Uncle Klaus spared a surprised glance with the space next to him; his gaze flickering between the space and his suspicious nephew. "There!" Theodore pointed to the space as the incessant buzzing sounded again. "There it was again! Can't you hear it?" He turned to Mama.

"Why're you looking at me?" Mama whined.

" 'Cause Mama can hear _everything"_ Theodore replied proudly. "Like a bat, but better"

"Well, _I_ didn't hear anything" Auntie interjected, waving her bottle as if feeling a little left out. Uncle's gaze continued to flicker back and forth between the empty space and Theodore who had returned to his chair with a pout.

"I'm not crazy!" Theodore pouted as he slouched in his chair.

"Of course not!" Auntie patted his head patronisingly. "Those beads are so pretty! Where'd you get 'em?"

"Grandfather gave 'em to me" Theodore replied as he fiddled with the few still interwoven in his hair.

"Dad did?" Uncle perked up.

"Uh huh, I get a new one when I've done good. I was _s'posed_ to get a new one after the party too!" His easy-going grin melted into a pout at the loss of his new bead.

"He never gave _me_ any beads!" Uncle whined. "I had to steal Allison's!"

"Hey!" Auntie threw a comb towards Uncle, making Theodore laugh at the scene.

Mama suddenly sat up as if some kind of eureka moment had just occurred. "I'm gonna tell Cissy that I love her!"

"YAS!" Uncle cheered as everyone turned to face her.

"I don't want any secrets!" Mama reasoned.

Secrets. Theodore paused, swallowing hard as he pursed his lips. There was still _so much_ he was keeping from his family, so much that he wanted to say but knew that he shouldn't—couldn't. but if the world was gonna explode anyway, then what's the harm? Right?…Right?

"Yeah!" Auntie agreed, jumping to her feet "Yeah, yeah, you're right! _Yes!_ 'Cause y'know if it's all gonna go tits up, the least I could do is be _honest_ with my husband!"

"Oh! Does that mean I have to face my cult?" Uncle sighed. "Does that mean I have to face my cult? I just hate group break-ups, that's why I stopped dating twins"

"Ugh! Does that mean I have to tell you about the other bits?" Theodore whined childishly. "But I don't wanna!"

"This family's _amazing!"_ Mama sang as Auntie & Uncle pulled them all in for a giggly group hug.

It's only as the sounds of Sam Cooke's ' _Twistin' the Night Away'_ that Theodore found he could no longer hold still, especially when Auntie went to turn up the volume on the radio declaring her love for the song as she went.

_Let me tell you 'bout a place  
_ _Somewhere up a New York way  
_ _Where the people are so gay  
_ _Twistin' the night away_

Uncle took Theodore by his hands and swung him around, as the pair cackled in joy with newly-cut hair swinging. Dancing wildly and carefree, the quartet let the last of their inhibitions go as they drunkenly moved to the music. While his family members moved in a conga line, Theodore stumbled into a trolley filled with accessories and used it as a dance partner, spinning around in circles.

_They're twistin', twistin'  
_ _Everybody's feelin' great  
_ _They're twistin', twistin'  
_ _They're twistin' the night  
_ _Let's twist a while!_

More alcohol and laughter flowed as the group danced about the place like children. At some point all three of the elder Hargreeves had flopped into the chairs with the hairdryers at the back of the room and were making up a dance involving only their feet.

_Lean up, lean back  
_ _Lean up, lean back  
_ _Now twist!  
_ _Watsui, now fly, now twist  
_ _They're twistin' the night away  
_ _Twistin', they're twistin'  
_ _One more time!_

As they all giggled and cackled like school children, Theodore picked up the broom and used it as a makeshift microphone as he lip-synced to the jaunty tune. Putting on a terrible Elvis impression, the young man danced and sang along to the song, despite not knowing the words. Soon enough however, the song was over and they all crashed back into their chairs tired and happy.

_Lean up, lean back  
_ _Lean up, lean back  
_ _Now twist!  
_ _Watsui, now fly, now twist  
_ _They're twistin' the night away  
_ _Twistin', they're twistin'  
_ _Twistin' the night away!_

* * *

Sometime later Theodore found himself accosted by a familiar black vehicle as it trundled down the street and came to a stop next to him. Out stepped an elderly man, smartly dressed in a fine black suit that hung off his frail frame and large coke-bottle glasses that enlarged his eyes tenfold. This was Abhijat, Grandfather's body guard, assistant and chauffeur. Theodore warily eyed the man as he accepted the envelope offered to him. Theodore waited until Abhijat had returned to the car and disappeared up the street, before he ripped open the crisp paper in his hands. Inside, beyond the wax sigil on the back, lay a single piece of card and a summons:

_To my Pursuers,  
_ _I, Reginald Hargreeves,  
_ _Request the pleasure of your company for a light supper  
_ _On the 20th November 1963  
_ _At half past seven o'clock._

_1624 Magnolia Street, Dallas Texas_

Oh boy.


	14. Unexpected Company

The old paint warehouse on the outskirts of Dallas was decorated in rust and carried the stench of the homeless; but the Handler did her best to ignore it as she sat tucked away in a small alcove and watched with wickedly gleaming eyes as her daughter, Lila Pitt fought her best asset, Five Hargreeves (He was _hers—_ she shaped him, moulded him _—_ and she'd be damned if the Commission was going to take him away!). Delicately painted lips grew to match her eyes as she watched Lila play with Five (much to his surprise), and then in turn, as Five slammed Lila down on to the floor where she became pinned by his foot. "You're better…than I thought" Lila croaked out as she struggled to lift his foot from her throat.

"And you were entirely average" Five smirked. "You can come out now"

Taking the cue for what it was, the Handler sauntered into the room inlaid with golden wardrobe and blanketed by the smoke trailing from her pipe. "Well done" She praised, "You figured it out"

"Well, it wasn't very hard" Five snarked. "She fights like everyone of you Commission drones"

"Hm, no matter, here we are. Together again" The Handler hummed, "I've gotta ask, did you miss me, _you little shit?"_

"Hehehe!" Lila laughed hoarsely from where she struggled beneath Five's foot, even as the schoolboy-assassin glared at his former employer with barely restrained vehemence; but gave no reply.

"You've got a good nose" The Handler complimented as she watched her (adoptive) daughter struggle, and tried to get a response out of her asset.

"…Y'know, planting her in a psych ward, taking advantage of my simpleton brother, that was smart" Five acquiesced.

"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree from the tree" She gazed fondly at her daughter as she said this, and yet revelled in the muted double-take that Five performed upon hearing this.

"She's your—?" Five pointed to the girl beneath him as he turned confused to the Handler.

"—Daughter" The Handler interjected. "Yes. And she's my only one, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't crush her windpipe"

There was a beat as the two predators—the lady & the schoolboy—sized each other up, before Five finally removed his foot from her daughter's throat and stepped back to allow her up. "I am _so_ going to enjoy killing you someday" Lila promised, as she loomed over Five's small stature. The Handler hid another fond smile behind her pipe at the familiar threat.

"Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?" The Handler more or less ordered as Five's features became adorned in a familiar smirk.

"Yes, the _grown-ups_ need to talk" He snarked as Lila turned back to glare at her mother like a stubborn child. The Handler nodded at Lila with a painted smile as Five grinned wickedly, looking for-all-the-world like the world's craziest parents.

"Ugh!" Lila huffed as she turned and stomped away with the roll of her eyes to go sulk in the corner atop some empty barrels.

"What is it you want?" Five instantly turned to the Handler.

"Do you like jazz, Five?" She asked, shaking off the excess ash from her pipe.

"I'd rather lick a cheese grater"

"Aw" She cooed and petted his cheek, "Jazz is like a beautiful woman; complex emotional, hard to please. She doesn't just give it to you…she makes you work for it—"

"—I'm _really_ hoping you're going somewhere with this" Five interjected as the Handler danced around the room, and Lila rolled her eyes in disgust at her mother's less-than-subtle flirting.

"Under my leadership, the Commission would sound more like…jazz!"

"And what about the Board of Directors?"

"Well, that's where _you_ come in" She playfully bopped him on the nose.

"Nope" Five refused as the Handler smiled knowingly. "No, it isn't"

"In exchange for the assassination of the Board" She proposed, "I'm willing to get you and your family out of this timeline and back to 2019 where you belong"

"And what about World War III that's due to kick off in just a few days?"

"Once you and your family are gone, that goes away"

"And the Apocalypse when we get back to 2019?"

"That too"

"I distinctly remember _you_ telling me that that Apocalypse _had_ to happen. That is was _supposed_ to happen"

"Back then I was toeing the company line, but once _I'm_ in charge…we can riff…"

"…Jazz"

"Exactly"

"What about the Board of Directors, hm?" Five paced. "I mean nobody knows who they are"

"Correct" The Handler precariously leant against a rusty pole as she hid her disdain for the mess it would cause her golden coat. "But once every fiscal quarter, they get together for a board meeting"

"Where?"

"The question is when. They meet somewhere in the timeline but never in the same place twice. The exact location and date of these board meetings is the most closely-guarded secret in the Commission"

"But _you_ know where it's gonna be, don't you?" Five laughed derisively.

"Would I be any good at what I do, if I didn't?" The Handler replied, sickly sweet.

Immersed in their cunning escapades, the highly-trained time-travelling assassins (ironically) didn't notice the extra person in their company until the sound of liquid splashing against that ground echoed throughout the old paint house and the scent of urine emanated. The Handler delicately scrunched her nose against the strong scent as her eagle-eyed gaze locked onto a rather drunk (as shown by the alcohol bottles littered about his feet) young man stood next to the back door. Although his appearance was slightly different from the last time she'd seen him on the infinite switchboard, the Handler knew this to be Theodore J. Hargreeves, nephew and Garde, and a very powerful person.

"Can I help you?" Theodore intoned nonplussed, as he continued to piss like nothing was wrong.

"What're you doing here?" Lila asked as she eyed him up like a piece of meat.

"Baking cookies" Theodore dryly replied as he put his penis away and zipped up his pants before he bent to retrieve the partially-drunken bottle at his feet."What d'ya _think?"_

"You shouldn't be here" Five strode over to his nephew with purposeful steps.

"Uncle!" Theodore cheered, waving wildly as he easily plucked the schoolboy from the ground and tightly hugged him to his chest. _"Still so little! Grumpy little pocketwatch!"_

The Handler did nothing to hide the grin that spread across her lips as Five was manhandled by his nephew and said nephew purred like a kitten. Rumbling purrs echoed about the warehouse as the drunk man hugged his uncle to him and buried his face in Five's hair like a child. To top it all off, Five appeared rather disgruntled either from the squashed position he suddenly found himself in or the fact that Theodore had been pissing not a few moments before and hadn't washed his hands (they _were_ in a warehouse). "Are you…drunk?" Lila laughed, as she too bared her joy for the schoolboy assassin to see.

"Mmhm, yes" Theodore replied amicably as he took in the other two people in the warehouse with them. Somehow, it seemingly all made sense in his drunk mind. "Very much so"

"Elliot said you went for tacos" Five muttered, his voice muffled from the hug.

"We were going to…" Said Theodore. "But then we had a dance party, and then they went to lay down the law. So I bought six new friends, three sadly are dead" He absently kicked one of the empty bottles at his feet.

"Theodore Hargreeves…" Lila mused, turning to her mother with a bored expression. "Isn't he the one Asterix was assigned?"

"Mm" The Handler hummed as she eyed the young man with cunning eyes.

"Asterix?" Theodore cocked his head in question as Five teleported out of his nephew's tight hold and stood off to the side, readjusting his blazer. "Was he the one that smelt like ham?"

"No" The Handler shook her head as she sucked at her pipe.

"Was he the one that kept cracking his knuckles?" Theodore pouted at the sudden lack of uncle in his arms.

"Different one"

"Was he the one with the chainsaw?"

"No"

"Ooh! Ooh! Was he the one—"

"—I thought you said you couldn't remember what happened?" Five interjected.

"I remember bits and pieces" Theodore replied as he floated upside down; his powers yanking him skywards as he floated about like an astronaut in zero-gravity. "Like bad dreams"

"Alright" Five huffed as he yanked his nephew back to the ground. "You need to go"

"No" Theodore refused, brushing off his uncle's grip as he was righted once more.

"If you don't do this, I'll kill you myself!" Five threatened.

"You're welcome to try" Theodore grinned wickedly as he bent down to Five's height. The delightful expression of disgust that Five wore at the alcohol no doubt flowing from Theodore, was almost enough to distract the Handler from noticing that Lila had grabbed the forgotten steel pipe that Five had used earlier and had moved up behind the pair.

**_SQUELCH!_ **

"Ow" Theodore whined as he stared down at the steel pipe now shoved through his chest. Five's eyes blew impossibly wide at the sight of the blood blossoming on his nephew's shirt as panic began to set in.

"Seriously?" Lila scoffed, "How have the others not gotten him yet?"

"Did you just impale me?" Theodore turned, nonplussed to Lila with the pipe still stuck in him. Five had to jump out of the way as he dodged the pipe now skewering his nephew; whilst the Handler watched on in interest. "I like you—I like her, can we keep her?"

"What? No!" Five denied.

"Grandfather would've let me keep her!" Theodore sulked. Five's parlour paled as he watched his nephew grip tight to the part of the pipe in front of him and pull it all the way through with a squelch of flesh and groan of his bones. The Handler perked up at the action, her eyes zooming in on the gaping hole that she could see and watched as his flesh knitted itself back together again.

"Oh, that's how" Lila commented in shock as she watched the same thing from where she had reclaimed her seat on the barrels.

"What?" Theodore snorted, suddenly very giggly as Five ripped through his many layers and pawed at the healing flesh with disbelieving eyes. "You think this is the first time I've been impaled? Haha!"

 _"What?"_ Five pulled back.

"You shoulda seen what they did to us at School!" Theodore laughed as he floated upwards once more, looking very much like the cheshire cat as he did so. "Can't Augment the Mogs without breaking a few bones!"

"School? You mean the one that blew up?"

"No, the one in Arizona"

"Hm?" The Handler hummed as she filed away the little pieces of drunken information.

"I know what you're think~ing!" Theodore sang as he rolled over to face the Handler, baring a goofy grin as he hung upside down in the air. "And it won't work!"

"Oh?"

"You're thinking of going after the others still stuck in School! But you won't even make it passed the front gate! I'm a member of the weaker House!" Theodore cackled, "And I ate everyone you ever sent after me! You stand _no chance_ against the others! House Frija crushed you! House Ordin will erase you from existence!"

"I see…"

"See? Even my student ID wouldn't get you in!" Theodore continued as he bared is numbered wrist and waved it around, just out of Five's reach who appeared to be contemplating on how to reach his nephew. "You can't catch us!" He drunkenly sang.

"…I need some time to think" Five finally turned to the Handler when it became clear that Theodore wasn't going to share anymore noteworthy anecdotes.

"Fine" The Handler smiled plastically as she watched Five snag onto his nephew's dangling ankles and yank him back to the ground once more. "But remember, doomsday's right around the corner, and with the way things are going, I'm your only option!"

"Not yet you aren't" Five scoffed as he dragged his nephew outside.

* * *

Standing next to one of the broken windows that overlooked the dirty courtyard, the Handler watched with gleaming eyes as Five yanked Theodore to a stop and turned on him with eyes full of something she couldn't quite decipher—it was thrilling whatever it was. "Dammit, why didn't you say anything earlier?!" Five demanded as he finally rounded on his nephew.

"I can't tell you" Theodore replied ominously.

"And why not?"

"I promised Helga"

Five pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation "Promised Helga what?"

"That I wouldn't tell you the secret" Theodore stared at his feet as he stumbled over nothing. "Shh!"

"What secret? Tell me the secret!"

Theodore slowly lifted his gaze up to meet his uncle's as he leant in close as if the birds would spread his words. "…Gramma smokes in the car. Jesus is okay with it, but we can't tell Mama"

"Not _that_ secret!" Five grit his teeth in annoyance. "The _other_ secret"

"I'M BATMAN! Shh!"

"Dammit _Theodore!"_ Five heaved a sigh as he tried to pull Theodore back on track. _"You_ said there was a secret—what's the secret?"

 _"Okay!"_ Theodore sighed in a put-upon manner, "I'll tell you, but you can't tell Mama"

"Fine"

"I lied about how Saint Gregory's blew up. Mogadorians found us and tried to kill us, so we killed them. Now Mama thinks her son is dead—I made her forget me"

"What?" Five stepped back as he tried to sort through the information.

"I think the mind wipe did more than it was s'posed to" Theodore loudly whispered.

"And that's why she can't remember anything before a month ago" Five concluded. "But why?"

"It was safer" Theodore turned back to stare at his dancing hands as they twisted in front of his face in graceful movements.

"Fat lot of good that did!"

"I know!" Theodore laughed, "The world's gonna go tits up anyway! 'Cause you're here, uncle, and that's what happens! But don't worry! That's not a secret, everyone knows! Hehe!"

"Right, c'me on" Five gripped tight to Theodore's wrist as he began to drag the stumbling man away once again; this time his expression had fallen into something withdrawn and his eyes flickered with hurt as he walked away. Just as the pair passed by, one last thing floated back towards the Handler, making her laugh at the insanity of it. "…Can we get a cat?" Theodore asked hopefully.

"What? No, they shed everywhere" Five refused.

"But you get to keep Uncle Luther and he does the same thing!"


	15. Interrogation Contemplation

**_20 November 1963_ **

An aching pain was the first thing to register in Theodore's mind as he woke; the second was the hand absently combing through his unravelled locks from whomever sat next to him as he slept.

Calloused fingertips rubbed at his pounding skull and the rustling of paper roared in his ears as his instincts took hold making him purr even as his hangover reared its ugly head. Peeking out through slitted eyes, Theodore was met with the sight of Elliot's living room bathed in the morning sunlight and the coffee table hidden beneath piles of papers; that was until the bright sunlight became too much and he slammed his lids shut once more, as his eyes felt like they were on fire. A low groan fell from his lips as he tried to bury his face further into the cushions beneath him to no avail. The hand paused as he stirred, only resuming their practises when he didn't appear to wake.

Theodore tried to return to the sweet lands of sleep, but the scent of freshly boiled coffee permeated from the kitchen and made his stomach roil. Gagging on the bile climbing up his throat, Theodore quickly rose from the couch—ignoring the startled noise from the other person—and did his best not to release his stomach contents onto the floor as he swayed from the sudden movement. His head continued to pound like a thousand angry drums in accompaniment with his freshly healed wounded chest as he shuffled over to the bathroom with squinting eyes. His stomach roiled again and Theodore dashed for the bathroom with sudden urgency.

He hugged the toilet and scrunched his eyes shut as his stomach regurgitated itself, trying his very best not to listen to the splashes as his vomit hit the water. Absentmindedly, Theodore heard the soft sound of footsteps follow him into the bathroom, but it wasn't until the person spoke that he realised they were there. "Having fun there?" Uncle Five smirked as his nose scrunched in disgust against the smell permeating from the toilet bowl and sipped at his umpteenth mug of coffee.

"Fuck off" Theodore groaned without any real heat as he slumped over the bowl to flush the toilet and leant his pounding head against the porcelain seat.

"Right" Uncle's amused expression dissipated into its typical unimpressed scowl. "We need to talk—once you've cleaned up"

"Nngh!" Theodore groaned again as his eyes scrunched shut at the likely painful interrogation that was to follow. Those four words never meant well for _anybody._

"Hurry up!" Uncle called as he mercilessly slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

 _"Fuck him!"_ Loren groaned at the pain racing through their shared brain. Theodore couldn't help but agree as he hauled himself to his feet and tried to bring back the circulation in his arms from where he hand fallen asleep—they more or less felt like flippers at this point. He didn't need to look in the mirror to know he looked like shit warmed over (he certainly _felt_ like it) and he had undoubtedly procured several cushion scars crossing over his face from the couch. Whatever the case, Theodore just wanted to drown himself in the warm waters of the shower for a while in his hopes to ease his hangover.

* * *

**_KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!_ **

Eventually, Theodore pulled his pruny self from the slowly cooling waters of the shower as Uncle Five repeatedly pounded on the bathroom door; his impatience evident even as the young man walked out in a fresh change of borrowed clothes (a brown-striped polo shirt, jeans & equally garish cardigan). Slouching over the table, Theodore tiredly accepted the glass of water and aspirin that was shoved into his hands as Uncle Five snatched the entire pot of coffee from the counter and filled up his cup to the rim.

The painful silence stretched on as Theodore felt himself begin to sweat beneath the intensely inquisitive scowl of his uncle. _"Where are the others?"_ Loren mused.

 _"Dunno"_ Theodore grunted, the Loric feeling thick on his tongue as he tried to swallow around his suddenly dry mouth. Following the Umbrella Academy reunion and the Apocalyptic 2.0 lecture the day before; he, Auntie Allison, Mama & Uncle Klaus had gone to Auntie's place of work where they spent most of the day drinking. In turn, Uncle Luther had insulted him & stormed off with Uncle Diego hot on his heels (likely antagonising him in such a way that it helped). To top it all off, Abhijat had turned up out of the blue to hand-deliver Grandfather's summons; but other than that there had been no sign of the others. Tugging at the beaded locks of his shorn fringe, Theodore's thoughts turned from when & how he had cut his hair to what the hell he had done yesterday to warrant such an expression from Uncle Five.

In the end, the question that fell from his uncle's lips was not what he had been expecting. "How'd you find the warehouse?" Uncle Five asked with only his intense gaze visible over the rim of his cup.

"I—I was homeless for a couple of years" Theodore replied, pushed a little off-kilter by the out-of-the-blue question, "It's one of the more popular spots with the homeless—'specially during winter"

"So you weren't following me?"

"Following you? Why would I follow you? It was probably just muscle memory or force of habit, y'know?"

"Hm" Uncle sipped aggressively at his coffee as his eyes narrowed on his nephew. "Is that why you stayed with Dad?"

"Kinda" Theodore shrugged, looking back down at his hands "It was better than the alternative anyway"

"What alternative?"

"Didn't you see the news clippings?" He nodded towards the living room where Elliot's walls held a variety of controversial topics, including several articles on his time stuck as a giant blue snake that the public had affectionately named the _'Dallas Dragon'_

"Is that why Dad called you Cetus, then?" Uncle asked, referring to their first meeting at the laboratories.

"I guess" Theodore shrugged again as he laid his head in his arms on the tabletop; his body wary as Uncle Five's questions were fired off at random. "It was the name of the Project—my Project"

"And you didn't say anything otherwise?"

"I spent two years a giant snake, things were a little fuzzy afterwards and by that point I'd gotten used to Cetus"

"Alright then" Uncle Five heaved a sigh as he pulled out a chair to sit down at the head of the table. "What's this about a school and Vanya's memories?"

"What—what do you mean?" Theodore tensed up, his body coiled like a tightly wound spring as he eyed his uncle with a wary gaze.

"Yesterday, you mentioned a school in Arizona and wiping Vanya's memories after blowing up your other school"

"I don't know what you're talking about" Theodore denied, tucking his head back into his folded arms as his shoulders hunched up around his ears. Above them, the lights flickered like fireflies.

"Theodore" Uncle scooted his chair closer as his tone grew unusually soft, "I need to know what we're up against. What happened? What did you do?"

"Nuh-uh" Theodore stubbornly shook his head as his arms unfolded and he clenched his fingers tight into his short hair.

Guilt roiled in his gut, warring violently with the fear in his heart as he still refused to speak aloud what had happened—what he had done; afraid that if he did so, it would make it all the more real. Tears pricked at his eyes at the thought of it.

"Theo—Teddy, _please"_ Uncle Five pleaded.

"…Can't" Theodore gasped out over the pounding in his ears—was that his hangover or the blood rushing through?

"Can't what?" Uncle pushed, "Can't remember what happened? Can't remember what you said? You said that those aliens—Mogadorians— tried to kill you & that you killed them. You said that you made Vanya think you were dead, that you made her forget"

 _"What?"_ Mama's sharp voice suddenly pierced through the atmosphere in the kitchen; cutting through the conversation like a hot knife through butter.

"Mama…" Theodore breathed, head shooting up and wide teary eyes locking onto the confused and hurt eyes of his mother who had seemingly appeared out of the blue.

"Vanya" Uncle Five acknowledged her sudden appearance as he sat back in his chair, though he was mostly ignored save for a quick glance and nod in his direction.

 _"You_ did this to me?" Mama stalked forward, her attention focused on her son hunched over the kitchen table.

"Wh—wha—I—I—" Theodore stumbled over his words, as they became stuck in his throat.

 _"—Why?"_ She came to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen. _"Why_ would you do this to me?"

"Mama, _please—!"_

"What did I do to you?"

"…P-please—please don't be mad…" Theodore whined, his soft voice thick with emotion as his tears trickled down his freckled cheeks.

 _"What_ did you _do?"_

_"Mama…!"_

_"Don't_ call me that!"

"Vanya—!" Uncle tried to intervene, sitting up straight at his sister's tone.

 _"—You_ stay out of this!" Mama glared at Uncle before turning back to Theodore, _"What did you do?!"_

Theodore cowered beneath his mother's glare, the full force of her anger causing her power to flare as his walls crumbled like wet sand. "I'm sorry…!" He whined sadly, tears streaming down his cheeks like tiny salty waterfalls as they blurred his vision and shoulders hunched up to his ears as his hands clenched around the ends of his sleeves. Theodore knew he looked like the young scolded child cowering before his mother who awaited his punishment with trepidation. He certainly felt like that.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Mama roared, her eyes glowing white.

 _"Vanya!"_ Uncle Five teleported around Theodore who sat hunched in his chair and physically pushed his sister away from his nephew, as if that would break up the impending slaughter. "That's _enough!"_

 _"'M sorry!"_ Theodore wept as Uncle Five stood between the two. "I thought it was better that way!"

 _"Why?!"_ Mama growled. "What. Did. You. Do?!" Somehow her quiet angry was so much more terrifying than her loud angry.

"Th-there—there was an incident b-before all—all of this and—and they found us—they found me again. And—and I didn't want them to—to kill you!" He confessed. The scales along Theodore's cheeks flared in his distress.

"Kill…me?" Mama softened slightly, like a block of ice thawing in the midday sun.

"You—you weren't s'posed to be there!" Theodore continued to weep, snot mixing with his tears as his nose ran, much to Uncle Five's disgust. "They were gonna—gonna c-come back!"

Mama deflated further as Uncle Five stepped back slightly so that he was side on, should he feel the need to intervene again. "So…what?" Uncle Five queried, plucking an embroidered handkerchief from the depths of his pockets and handed it to his nephew. "You make Vanya think you were dead, and then what? Hang around?"

"N—no" Theodore noisily blew his nose as he hugged his legs to his chest like a child, "We—I was s'posed to leave after—after we'd—I'd said good—goodbye, but…but with everything, I couldn't get…couldn't get away…"

"Oh" Uncle Five slumped back against the kitchen counter as Mama deflated completely.

"Please don't be mad…" Theodore pleaded softly, teary eyes locking onto his mother's form as she visibly debated over what to say next. A cocktail of emotions flitted across her face like someone was boredly flicking through television channels, before she shoved her clenched hands into her pockets and turned to flee.

"I—I gotta think" Mama dismissed herself, fleeing back down the stairs.

Theodore's face crumpled further into despair as his mother ran from him like he was the monster under the bed; the guilt and fear crashing through him in waves was now accompanied by the hurt that stabbed at his heart like a loralite blade. Folding in on himself, Theodore became so encompassed by his emotions that he didn't notice the pithing look sent his way by his uncle, nor did he pay attention to said uncle when he began to shift into his serpentine form.

A startled yelp was heard from his uncle as Theodore's limbs bent at unnatural angles, his bones creaked and snapped like toothpicks as loralite scales spread across his flesh like a rash. The familiar whooshing sound that accompanied Uncle Five's teleports sounded as he blinked out of the suddenly full kitchen; and layers of roiling serpentine muscles pushed at the already bulging walls of the room. Stuffing his now very large head underneath the kitchen table (where it more or less sat atop him like a ushanka hat), Theodore sulked as his body lay about the room, coiled up like breathing rope as he exchanged the complexity of his human self for the simplicity of his beastly self.

Another whoosh was heard as Uncle Five blinked back into the kitchen, landing next to Theodore's head, but he was paid no mind. "Theodore…?" Uncle Five cautiously shuffled closer, calloused fingers rolling over his smooth yet jagged scales. A few chairs were knocked over as Theodore turned his head away as much as possible and a low pitiful whine fell from his muzzle that pulled at the schoolboy-assassin's heartstrings. Not quite sure of what to do (the Commission Handbook never mentioned what to do when your adoptive nephew turned into a giant moping snake and Delores usually dealt with these emotional…things), he plopped down next to the end of the table and sat tucked beneath one of Theodore's large scaly legs with his heart beating loudly in his ears as he somewhat indulged himself for the first time in two weeks. And the two sat there—schoolboy-assassin and alien snake—in relative comfort of the morning sun.


	16. Dig Her Graves

**_June 2012_ **

_They were little more than husks; just shells of their former selves. Children who had laughing and joking only moments before—kids who had screamed and thrashed and cried now lay dead at their feet; long-forgotten like glass in the gutter. Theodore gripped tight to the large shovel that had been thrust into his hands as he stared at the increasing pile of bodies growing wretched in the blazing Arizona sun. He tried to ignore the glassy eyes of the unseeing children, tried to forget the valleys and peaks of the scars engraved into their multicoloured flesh._

_At six years old, Theodore was one of the younger 'Students' at the 'School' and yet he still bore the same scars that many of the older kids did from their lessons. Each adorned in large colourful overalls that stood out in the red American desert like a sore thumb, that sorted them into each of their houses. Blue for House Frija (those with physical Legacies), green for House Theron (those with energy/elemental Legacies), yellow for House Helwyn (those with Legacy-affecting Legacies) and red for House Ordin (those with mental Legacies). The barbed-wire lined courtyard was filled mostly with greens and blues; the piles with reds and yellows._

_Burrowing the spade of the shovel into the unforgiving red earth at their feet, Theodore dug without complaint, well-aware by this point of what sort of consequences would be in store if he did. The sound of liquid splashing against the unforgiving sand caught his attention, and yet Theodore did not stop in his awkward movements. Off to the side, Gretchen (a tall seven year old with red curls pulled back into a frizzy ponytail & a member of House Theron) stood bent over and retching next to the hole she had started. Theodore wasn't sure if the reaction was from the likely heat stroke she had incurred or the permeating scent of rotting flesh floating on the non-existent breeze._

_"Don't" Warned the voice in his head as one of the heavily armed soldiers hauled the little girl to her feet and shoved the shovel back into her hands from where she had dropped it. Theodore turned away scared, as the sound of gun hitting flesh echoed across the expanse of desert followed by Gretchen's painful groan as she hit the hard sand with a quiet thump. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye showed Theodore that the older girl lay with tears on her freckled & sunburnt cheeks and a bruise quickly forming across her face from where she had been pistol whipped._

_Orders were barked in their general direction as more than just Theodore had paused slightly in his work to watch the spectacle play out before them. They all knew the risks of acting out here and if you didn't, you learnt fast. They had rules for a reason, but that didn't mean they had to like them. Returning to the corner of the mass grave that they were digging, Theodore lost himself in the repetitive motion of the shovel grating against the unforgiving red soil of the Arizonian desert as his thoughts drifted away._

_The whole reason they were out here in the first place was because of the Augments. Theodore shivered despite the aggressive sun on his back as he thought of the smartly-dressed Mogadorians. They had stood proudly wearing their shiny black coats that had contrasted greatly against the brightly coloured overalls of the Garde children. The row of Augments had been presented to them by the Headmaster that morning during the assembly. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what their presence at the School meant for the kids—nor did the wicked grin stretching across the Headmaster's scarred & gilled face. Trouble was brewing in the kitchens, and the kids were on the menu._

* * *

**_September 2012_ **

_A couple of months had passed since the first of the Augmented Mogadorians had been paraded in front of the children. Since then, the digging of the mass graves for their friends and inevitably themselves, became a regular occurrence. Theodore didn't mind the digging, it was simple work. What he feared however was the big wooden door that led to the Headmaster's office—once you went in, you never came out. And those few—those lucky few that did, were never the same again._

_Matthew of House Ordin had been the first person that had survived the trials put forth by the Headmaster. When he had arrived, he had been a tubby boy of twelve, but now, many months later he was tall and lean from the overworking and lack of food. With long brown locks pulled back into a braid (courtesy of Courtney of House Helwyn) and framing apple green eyes, the boy hadn't revealed much of what had happened—only bits and pieces really—after he had returned, sallow and withdrawn._

_Theodore couldn't help but think he may as well have been dead like the bodies of their friends piled high outside. Matthew didn't move, didn't eat, didn't do...anything really; just sat there mumbling random sentences over and over like a broken record. Things such as the grin on the Headmaster's face when he had entered, the pair of worn shoes poking out from behind the upturned desk, the menacing glare of the Matrix rejects standing next to futuristic technologies. There were ramblings on the fear he felt, the pleas he sang, the cries they ignored and the pain they inflicted. Jenny from House Theron was convinced that he had become possessed by some kind of demon and had clutched to her harshly-crafted rosary like her life depended on it as she prayed in tune with Matthew's muffled ramblings._

_Following that, rumours began to fly. Soon enough the entire School was overrun with the mumblings of Matthew of House Ordin. Flowing from to mouth to mouth in an odd game of Chinese Whispers, it didn't take long for every child to know at least some of what was going on behind the Headmaster's door. It didn't take long for the conspiracies to fly. The screams they heard, weren't actually screams "—they were the ghosts singing for blood" One suggested._

_"The thumps weren't Garde being hit, but the pounding of Godly drums" Suggested another._

_"There were angels waiting them beyond the door!"_

_"A way to Heaven!"_

_"A fridge full of food!"_

_"It was a bad joke!"_

_"A prank!"_

_"A bad dream!"_

_"A monkey in mascot suit!" The theories were far and wide, growing more and more outrageous with each telling and in a sense they were just little stories—little white lies—that they told each other to hide the true horrors that lay beyond the Headmaster's door._

* * *

**_January 2013_ **

_It was raining. Theodore stared dumbly at the dark clouds crying tears from the starry sky up above them even as the cold droplets pattered down his freckled cheeks like they were his own tears. He wasn't the only one. It never rained in Arizona. Ever. Blue eyes watched enraptured by the single droplets falling from the patchy roof and down onto the children in the cells below as a gaggle of the elder Loric Garde sat in their cell across the way singing lowly._

_The world was young, the mountains green  
_ _No stain yet on the moons was seen  
_ _No words were laid on stream or stone  
_ _When Durrinn woke and walked alone.  
_ _He named the nameless hills and dells  
_ _He drank from yet untasted wells  
_ _He stooped and looked in Mirrormere  
_ _And saw a crown of stars appear  
_ _As gems upon a silver of thread  
_ _Above the shadow of his head_

_Quietly shifting in the hay-laden floor of their cell, Theodore let his gaze wander over the familiar fixtures of the dimly lit warehouse for the umpteenth time. The large rickety building appeared to be some old warehouse or storage containment of some kind as several abandoned shelves were stacked against the back wall, leaving most of the building bare for whatever it was supposed to contain. Split apart like animals at the zoo, each of the Houses were then divided by genders and species—Lorics and Humans side-by-side, but still far apart._

_The Western seas have passed away  
_ _The world was fair in Durrinn's day  
_ _A king he was on cavern throne  
_ _In many-pillared halls of stone  
_ _With golden roof and silver floor  
_ _And runes of power upon the floor  
_ _The light of sun and star and moon  
_ _In shining lamps of crystal hewn  
_ _Undimmed by cloud or shade of night  
_ _There shown forever far and bright_

_The Teachers must've been in a good mood tonight. Theodore mused as he listened to the elder Loric boys tell the story of Lorien's discovery—of the first man to step foot on the lush soil of their homeland. Their baritones were soothing, and even for a young Human boy who had barely stepped foot outside of the state, he felt like he could picture the planet in which his ancestors had come from._

_There hammer on the anvil smote  
_ _There chisel clove, and graver wrote  
_ _There forged was bladed and bound was hilt  
_ _There delver mined the mason built  
_ _There beryl, pearl and opal pale  
_ _And metal wrought like fishes' mail  
_ _Buckler and corset, axe and sword  
_ _And shining spears were laid in horde_

_Safe, tonight in the rain and enveloped by the gentle lull of the Loric song, Theodore sat back against the rickety wall and peacefully closed his eyes as he shifted again amongst the dirty hay and he tried not to think on the graves he would have to dig tomorrow._

_Unwearied then were Durrinn's folk  
_ _Beneath the mountains, music woke  
_ _The harpers harped, the minstrels sang  
_ _And at the gates, the trumpets rang  
_ _The world is grey, the mountains old  
_ _The forge's fire is ashen-cold  
_ _No harp is wrung, no hammer falls  
_ _The darkness dwells in Durrinn's halls  
_ _The shadow lies upon his tomb  
_ _In Moria, in Khazak-duum  
_ _But still the sunken stars appear  
_ _In dark and windowless Mirrormere  
_ _There lies his crown in water deep  
_ _'Til During wakes again from sleep._

* * *

**_20 November 1963_ **

It was sometime later—somewhere around lunchtime—that Theodore finally shifted back into his (naked) human self. Uncle Five barely even registered as scales receded into flesh, instead shifting to recline against the fridge door as he slept. Theodore tried his best not to wake his uncle as he slipped from the kitchen, gathering the remnants of his earlier ensemble (thankfully the cardigan had survived, though the shirt and pants left a lot to be desired). Slipping the large cardigan over his naked form, Theodore quietly shuffled over to Elliot's room where he fetched another pair of clothes to replace the ones he had torn through; once again dressing himself in a jeans and a garish polo shirt.

Red-eyed and emotionally drained from his breakdown, Theodore felt only a little bit better now that his hangover had eased a little—aided, in part, by the nap he had fallen into at some point after shifting. Plucking Uncle Five from where he was now slumped against the fridge, his mouth agape as he quietly snored, Theodore moved him to the dishevelled couch (snatching Sergio and stuffing him into his back pocket before Uncle could take him away again). Uncle barely stirred as Theodore returned to the kitchen and began to root through Elliot's fridge for something to eat.

Practically climbing into the ice box, Theodore pushed passed an ineffable amount of Jell-O-encased foods as he looked for something edible. It wasn't until his eyes lit up at the bacon wrapped in brown newspaper that Theodore retreated from the fridge and spent a few minutes fumbling with utensils as he tried to figure out how to work the appliances. Soon enough, however, the delicious scent of bacon was wafting through the building and making stomachs' rumble.

A low groan sounded from the couch as Uncle Five woke to his stomach's protests and Theodore noted that it had probably been only a couple of weeks for his smallest uncle since his first Apocalypse (the one ironically caused by the very people who survived it)—he was probably still tired from the first one. _"It's a wonder the monkey hasn't exploded yet"_ Loren mused as Uncle Five stumbled into the kitchen and beelined for the cold coffee pot that had made its way to the sink at some point.

"Humans don't explode" Theodore mumbled as he flipped over the burning bacon, his mouth watering as he watched the fatty meat crispen amongst the grease.

_"Not on their own"_

"I'm not gonna blow him up, you nortz"

_"Fine, fine, whatever you say"_

"You can't eat 'im either"

_"Party pooper!"_

"Yeah, yeah" Slipping the current rashes of blackened bacon onto the plate next to him, Theodore moved to place more rashes in the pan as Uncle sent an odd glance or two in his direction, likely wondering why/what he was mumbling about.

"Well" Uncle Five slouched into one of the kitchen chairs that he'd righted with a newly warm pot of coffee on the table next to him, mug in hand and combing back his hair that lay askew. "That's wasn't what I was expecting"

"Nn" Theodore grunted, sparing a glance towards his tired uncle as he understood the schoolboy-assassin to be referring to the interrogation turned breakdown, confession and sulk.

"But I s'pose I understand where you're coming from..." He muttered into his coffee.

 _"Don't_ say that" Theodore shortly replied, shoulders tense as he pointedly stared down at the sizzling bacon.

"I know it's hard—" Uncle Five tried, clearly taking his protest the wrong way.

"— _Don't_ tell me what Hell is" Theodore interrupted, still refusing to look at his uncle as his tone turned cold. " You were plucked from her gates, I dug her graves. You will never understand how I feel"

"Excuse me?" Uncle Five demanded incredulously as he sat up straight, now staring at his nephew who continued on like nothing was wrong. That was if you dismissed the clearly tense stance he had taken as he turned off the stove, taking the bacon with him as he moved to lather a couple of slices of bread with butter. "You think I had it _easy?_ You—you think I didn't do everything I could to get back? You think I didn't go through Hell to get back here?! To get back to my family?!"

"You're little Apocalyptic holiday? Again? Really?" Theodore sneered as he harshly stabbed the sharp knife, blade down, into the chopping board next to his half-constructed bacon sandwich; before turning to face his rage-filled uncle "Then tell me something Uncle, 'cause I'm _dying_ to know—what were doing when you were five, hm? Learning to read? To write? How to not shit on your shoes? 'Cause I bet it wasn't _digging your own grave"_

"...You're bluffing" Uncle's wary eyes narrowed on the knife embedded in the chopping board as it continued to sway from the force in which it was shoved there. Red had flushed his cheeks from the sudden rage at his nephew's offhanded accusations, and yet he couldn't help the backhanded dumbfoundedness that washed over him as Theodore continued to talk.

"Am I?" Theodore rose a brow in question, lips pursed into a thin line as he turned back to the chopping board and plucked the knife from the wooden surface with ease. "How they swept that shit under the rug, I'll never know. Rehab, _my ass!"_

"So what? We should all just say 'fuck it' and give up? Is that what you want, Theodore? To give up? To die?"

There was a beat of silence as Theodore didn't reply straight away, instead mulling over his words as he tried to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say in such a way that Uncle Five would actually _listen._ "This war that's coming—it'll come—people'll die whether you like it or not" Theodore mused as he sliced through the soft bread, cutting his sandwich into four uneven triangles. His thoughts drifted back to the summons Grandfather had gifted to him the day before as he replied full of trepidation. "So you better hope that Grandfather has that Hail Mary you're looking for, or you'll be digging your own graves soon enough"


	17. Tea Party at the Tiki Lounge

"…Will you stop speaking in _fucking riddles_ and just _spit it out already?!"_ Uncle Five angrily demanded, stomping after Theodore & practically spitting in barely-contained rage as he followed him down the steps and outside to the curb where one of Grandfather's sleek black cars sat parked, shining in the afternoon sun.

"How much clearer do you want me to make it?" Theodore snarked as the pair was greeted by Abhijat who emerged from the dark car as the two had approached. "Should I write in the sky? Tattoo it on your arm? Spoon-feed it to you? It's really not that hard uncle—war is coming, we're all gonna die and for _some_ reason you seem to think that Grandfather holds all the cards"

"Well, what _else_ are we s'posed to do?!" Uncle through his hands up in the air exasperation. "Die?"

"Y'know for someone who s'posedly hates him, you sure do have a lot of faith in him"

"That's—that's not—that's besides the point!"

"Is it?"

"Who's this?" Uncle Five instead nodded to Abhijat who remained standing next to the car with a look of amusement plastered across his aged features. "What's he here for? Some kind of extravagant kidnapping?"

"Abhijat, Master Five" Abhijat snatched up Uncle's hand in his own gloved one, slipping into the conversation with effortless ease. Theodore bit his lip in an effort to hide the grin when he heard his uncle's bones crack beneath the elderly man's tight handshake.

"Tss!" Uncle Five hissed as he subtly tried to shake out his hand once Abhijat had let go, much to the old man's amusement.

"Hi Nosey!" Theodore grinned, his attitude easily slipping into something a little cheerier as he greeted the old man with the familiar taunt as he pointed out his rather prevalent nose.

"Less of that attitude or I shall be obliged to deliver the Abhijat—haymaker!" Abhijat joked, a mirrored grin pulling at his lips.

"Okay! Bring it on big guy!" Theodore replied in much the same manner before moving to get into the dark car, only to be stopped by a hand clutched to his elbow.

"You _still_ haven't answered my questions!" Uncle Five snapped, warily eyeing the open door and elderly man standing next to it, likely despairing over his nephew's lack of safety concerns.

"Uncle, _this_ is Abhijat" Theodore sighed patronisingly as is he were talking to a child—a real child. "He's Grandfather's chauffeur—"

"—Among other things—" Abhijat interjected.

"—And _Grandfather_ sent a summons" Theodore brandished the slightly rumpled invitation like it was made of gold.

As Uncle Five snatched the piece of paper from his hands and compared it against his own, Theodore slipped inside the vehicle and slouched back against the dark leather seats as he plucked a newspaper from the side door to read from. A few moments later, a rather grouchy Uncle Five slid in after him with Abhijat closing the door with a smirk etched on his old features before moving around to the driver's seat.

"Where to, Master Theodore?" Abhijat asked over his shoulder as he revved the car.

"1624 Magnolia street, Dallas, Texas" Theodore replied over the edge of the paper, ignoring the odd look he got from Uncle as he read off the full address, and yet knowing full well that the driver-pilot-bodyguard required a _full_ and _specific_ address considering who his employer was.

"Very good, Master" The old man nodded as the car swiftly pulled away from the curb.

"C'me on Nosey, chop, chop" Theodore encouraged as they pulled further down the main road. As if in reply, Abhijat stepped on the gas, expertly swinging through the rush hour traffic as they hurriedly made their way through Dallas; racing against the falling sun. Uncle Five—who hadn't been expecting the sudden shift in gears nor Abhijat's erratic driving—gripped tight to the edge of his seat with white knuckles and a small squeak of surprise as he tried not to slide off when they flew wildly around the corner. In turn, Theodore simply turned sideways in his seat, allowing him to slide up and down the length of his seat as he calmly continued to read the paper; so used to the chauffeur's driving as he was.

"Oh look, Nosey" Theodore called out as he skimmed through the headlines and the buildings of Dallas sped by in blurry flashes. Across from him, Uncle Five was starting to turn a little green and Theodore hoped they would reach their destination before Uncle's breakfast reached him. "The Beatles released their first album"

"That is good news, Master Theodore" Abhijat nodded amicably as they spun around another corner.

"And someone from New Hampshire won the lottery"

"I'm very glad to hear it, Master"

"Look's like Alcatraz is shutting down"

"Oh?"

"Oh, and apparently India won the football last night"

 _"Yes!"_ Abhijat cheered, punching the air with both hands as they came off of the steering wheel in celebration. "BADHAI HO!"

"Calm down, Nosey" Theodore scolded halfheartedly as the car swerved wildly—more so now that no one was actually steering. Uncle Five almost appeared to be suctioned to his seat by that point.

"Yes, Master Theodore" Abhijat grinned unapologetically as he righted the car, "Sorry Master Theodore"

* * *

Evening had sunk by the time the black car had parked outside of 1624 Magnolia street alongside another of Grandfather's vehicles, where the blonde curls of Grace could be seen through the tinted windows. 1624, as it turned out was a large building that appeared to be some kind of hospice or headquarters that sported the glowing blue lettering of _SOUTHLAND LIFE._ No sooner had they parked, did Uncle Five waste no time in blinking from the car and into the building as Theodore farewelled their driver, thanking him for the ride as he meandered in after his harried uncle.

Slipping into the elevator, Theodore slouched against the left-hand corner of the box as he fiddled with his outfit, combing his hands through his hair a few times and stared down at his bare toes that winked back at him, all the while wondering if Grandfather would notice. _"Of course he will!"_ Loren laughed, _"Eyes of a Sn'orak that one!"_

 _Fuck off._ Theodore thought as he spared a quick glance towards Uncle Five who no longer appeared green but appeared to also be readying himself to meet with Grandfather in much the same manner that Theodore was.

Before the elevator doors could fully close however, a hand swung out to pry them open and then one-by-one, the rest of the Hargreeves shuffled in through the door. First came Uncle Diego who slipped towards the back, then there was Auntie Allison who trotted over to the right-hand side, Uncle Klaus slumped next to Uncle Diego clutching onto his hip flask and reeked of alcohol and Mama came in right on his heels. Furtively, Theodore stared at his feet as he stood up straight and Mama came to a stop in front of him, her back turned without a single greeting. Uncle Luther was the last to board, standing center stage and full of nerves. "Good" Uncle Five sighed defeatedly as he pushed the up button, "We're all here"

Theodore turned to watch as the numbers above the door flickered from one to the other, counting the floors as they went and he couldn't help but think that maybe he would've been better taking the stairs, if only to avoid the awkward atmosphere now choking them as the elevator sang above their heads. Then again that could've been Uncle Luther's silent but deadly fart. "Oof! _Luther! That smells amazing!"_ Uncle Klaus commented, waving away the stench as much as possible as Auntie hid in her jacket and Uncle Diego burst into not-quite-concealed giggles.

"Sorry" Uncle Luther apologised as Uncle Five, Mama and Theodore gagged on the smell; all three of whom were unfortunate enough to be within the radius of ground zero. Uncle Five leant against the wall, looking like he was about to pass out as Mama pinched her nose shut and Theodore slapped a cardigan-covered hand over his own nose. "I'm nervous"

 _I should've taken the stairs!_ Theodore complained as his eyes watered and he tried his best to inhale the lavender scented soap still embedded in the wool.

**_DING!_ **

Thankfully, their stop couldn't come fast enough. With the opening of the doors, everyone flew from the foul stench now enveloping elevator & Uncle Luther, who remained sheepishly standing there as his family shuffled out across the floor where they were met with the Hawaiian-themed lounge and bar. The sign above the entrance appropriately named the establishment the: _TIKI LOUNGE_ as island music played softly across the speakers. "All right, when Dad gets here, I'll do the talking, okay?" Uncle Five instructed as he led the way to the large round table in the center of the room.

"Got a few questions for him myself" Uncle Diego replied.

"Hey, we don't wanna scare him off"

"Grandfather? Scared?" Theodore huffed a laugh at the idea. "Yeah right"

"He might be able to help us stop doomsday, get us home" Uncle Five continued, his answer more for Uncle Diego than Theodore.

"No, we _need_ to figure out why he's planning to _kill the President"_ Uncle Diego continued as both Auntie and Uncle Klaus beelined it for the bar.

"This is a matter of _life_ and _death,_ you _imbecile!"_

"Okay, yeah, maybe we should take turns talking, yeah?" Mama proposed, pulling on the motherly instincts she didn't know she had, "Here, whoever has this conch shell gets to talk"

"Vanya, we don't have time for a debate, okay?" Uncle Five tried to keep his exasperation in check.

"Maybe I should lead" Auntie returned, snatching the conch shell from Mama as she sat her drink on the table and draped her jacket over the back of one of the chairs. "We all know I'm a better public speaker than the rest"

"Okay, Daddy's girl" Uncle Diego sneered.

"Oh? Jealous _Number Two?"_

 _"Hey!_ No more numbers! No more bullshit, we're Team Zero. We're all Team Zero"

"More like Team _Dead"_ Theodore muttered as he looked over the menu and did a _fabulous_ job of ignoring Uncle Five's glares.

"Uh, Diego" Uncle Luther mumbled, "You didn't have the conch"

**_CRASH!_ **

Theodore's head jerked up at the noise just in time to see the conch shell which had previously been poised in Auntie's hand, now shattered against the far wall from where Uncle Diego had thrown it. "Grandfather won't be happy with that" Theodore murmured as he decided on something a little fruitier than he would usually go for. If this was to be a test—just as he suspected it would be—he didn't want Grandfather to have any reason to fail him; but he also needed a drink to calm his nerves, so a Sidecar it was.

As if on cue, Grandfather entered from the back with a leather-bound notebook and a selection of files slid into a manilla folder under one arm. After quietly thanking the bartender, Theodore retreated to the table with nervous steps, hoping against hope that Grandfather wouldn't notice his lack of shoes. At the same time his family appeared rather dumbfounded at his entrance, almost as if they didn't believe he was real until now. _I s'pose it is a bit odd._ Theodore mused as he slid into a seat in between Grandfather & Uncle Luther. _Seeing your dead dad for the first time._

"Not only have you burglarised my lab" Grandfather began, taking a seat as the rest of the Hargreeves followed suit like trained monkeys. "Set my chimp loose, stolen my grandson—" Theodore couldn't help but puff up in pride at the acknowledgement, his purrs barely audible beneath his grandfather's baritone. "—Conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have on numerous occasions called me—"

"—Hey Pop, how's it hanging?" Uncle Klaus greeted as he fell into the spare chair on the other side of Grandfather.

"—Dad"

There was a beat of silence as everyone seemed to reach for the drinks in sync, slurping from the multicoloured drinks as politely as possible and unable to meet anyone's eyes as they refused to break the silence first. Tapping the front cover of his notebook with impatient fingers, Grandfather spoke again as Theodore spared a glance over at Uncle Five who looked like he wanted to both shake and strangle Grandfather to get him to listen to him. "My reconnaissance tells me you're not CIA, not KGB _certainly_ not MI5, so _who_ are you?"

"…We're your children" Uncle Five supplied when he realised that no one else was going to say anything. "We're from the future. In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world—"

"And look how that turned out" Theodore scoffed into his drink, playing with his ice cubes as Grandfather acknowledged the comment with a quirk of his brow. Theodore wisely kept his mouth shut, instead suckling on the lemon wedge from his glass.

"—Called us the Umbrella Academy" Uncle Five continued on as if his nephew hadn't spoken, to which Uncle Klaus silently toasted.

"Why on _earth_ would I adopt six—" Grandfather began.

"—Seven" Auntie interrupted. "One of us isn't here"

"Dead" Uncle Diego amended. "One of us is dead"

Theodore shot an odd look towards one of the tables behind him when the same annoying buzzing that surrounded Uncle Klaus, sounded again. Wiggling a finger in his ear, Theodore missed the odd look he received from said ghost-whisperer as he turned back to the table, and Uncle Klaus gestured for Grandfather to continue talking after shushing whatever ghost was yapping at him at that point.

"Regardless" Grandfather eyed his future children like they were wild animals, "What would possess me to adopt _seven_ ill-mannered malcontents?"

"We all have special abilities" Uncle Five replied, hovering so far over the table he may as well have mounted it.

"Special? In what sense?" Grandfather perked up in interest.

"In the _superpower_ sense" Uncle Luther snapped.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I'm a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me"

 _"Everybody_ wants to see powers all of a sudden!" Auntie complained as she played with her straw.

 _"We're_ not circus animals, okay?" Uncle Luther snarked. Theodore sat up, a little offended that his uncle would imply that _Theodore_ was. "We're not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like seals for your amusement"

"Says the giant space monkey" Theodore snarked quietly as Uncle Diego effortlessly flung a dagger from his fingers and impossibly curved it around Grandfather's head where it became embedded in the wooden post behind him with a small thud.

Flipping open the leather-bound notebook in front of him, Grandfather quickly began taking down notes just as he had done during Theodore's lessons and tests only a week or so ago. It was a familiar sight that comforted him, though he didn't know why. "What are you writing?" Uncle Diego questioned, apparently he and his siblings did _not_ agree with Theodore's sentiments.

"You are zero for two, young man" Grandfather replied, making Auntie snort into her cup and Uncle Diego to launch from his seat towards the old man. At the same time that Uncle Five blinked from his seat to intercept Uncle Diego from strangling Grandfather, Theodore jerked upright with the beginnings of a growl sounding in his throat and the scales along his cheeks flared upwards to make himself appear larger; much like an owl or a cat.

"Stop!" Uncle Five hissed, shoving Uncle Diego back into his seat.

"Now _that_ is interesting" Grandfather commented as he jotted down a few notes on Uncle Five and Theodore glared at his violent uncles as he tried to get his scales to lie flat once more.

"All right, uh quick rundown" Uncle Five readjusted his blazer as he walked back to his seat while Uncle Diego sulked. "Luther: super strength, you already know Theodore, Klaus can commune with the dead, Allison can rumour anyone to do anything—"

"—'Cept she never uses it" Uncle Diego remarked snidely.

"I heard a rumour" Auntie turned a little irked by Uncle Diego's needless comments, and smirked at him "You punched yourself in the face"

Everyone watched as Uncle Diego's eyes glazed over and in quick succession, he punched himself in the face. Hard. "Aah!" Uncle Diego groaned, clutching to his aching nose as he likely remembered why they didn't piss off their sister. "Dammit!" Uncle Five gestured as if to say 'see?'

"And you?" Grandfather turned to Mama with curious eyes and pen poised in hand.

"Uh, maybe we _don't_ take Vanya for a test run" Uncle Luther answered for her, placing one of his large hairy hands over hers as he did so.

"Oh yeah, that's probably not a good idea" Uncle Klaus agreed as he sat back in his chair.

"Yeah"

"It's fine" Mama shrugged, leaning forward to pick up a fork from the table. "I can handle it"

"Handle it?" Auntie queried, "Last time you 'handled it' you _definitely_ blew up the moon"

"No! Vanya don't!"

"Vanya!"

"Wait!" Came the chorused protests as Theodore wisely scooted his chair back and ducked beneath the safety of the table as a single chime rang out in the split second before the sound of fruit exploding sounded.

"Oops" Mama giggled unapologetically. The sound pulled at Theodore's heart, twisting the knife deep as he out from beneath the table once it was clear and scooted his chair back towards the table whilst the others picked fruit bits from their clothes. _Mama, please forgive me!_

"Tch, this was my favourite shirt" Uncle Klaus complained, halfheartedly wiping off the fruit on him.

"Wow" Uncle Diego huffed, flicking some pineapple back onto the table.

"That was impressive" Uncle Luther blinked as Grandfather wiped off his monocle and replaced it on his face.

Whilst the elderly Hargreeves plucked fruit from their clothes and reordered themselves as best they could, Theodore picked up on a faint sound echoing from beyond the back doors; a sound that just would _not_ be ignored. With hands clenched around the back of the cane chair, he cocked his head, trying to gage just _what_ the hell was making that noise. Turning to Grandfather, Theodore stood swiftly slightly as he silently waited for permission to go investigate the noise, much like a dog wanting to go for a walk. A single wave of his hand was all that Theodore needed before he was bouncing off towards the back door and noise that lay beyond.

Or at least, that was the idea. Before he had even crossed the foyer, Uncle Five was in front of him and pushing him back towards his seat with a warning glare. But Theodore stood firm. Sparing a quick glance back towards Grandfather with his brows drawn together in a look of confusion—who nodded his assent again—Theodore easily snatched Uncle Five from the ground, yanking him skywards by his collar and flung him over his shoulder like a rag doll. Only the sound of Uncle Five blinking away with a startled yelp told Theodore that he was fine before he returned to his mission to investigate the odd noise.

But again, he was halted in his mission. This time by Grandfather who called for his attention when Uncle Diego accused him of planning to murder the President and threatened bodily harm. "…Cetus!" Grandfather called sharply, causing Theodore to pause and turn once more.

"Grandfather?" Theodore cocked his head in question, the few beads in his hair jangling at the movement.

 _"T'ret"_ The Loric command sounded odd coming from Grandfather, but it served its purpose. As the trigger word flitted through Theodore's mind he felt his mind grow slack and his body tense as Loren took partial hold. Despite the implanted chip being removed many months ago, Grandfather had found a more…humane way of controlling—or training Theodore, much like one would a pet. It was like he was hypnotised—like he was just sitting there watching his body do all these things, but unable to stop.

The loralite blue film slid over his eyes like a third eyelid, his scales protruded from his pale flesh like rocks from water and his lips pulled back to reveal blunt teeth that framed the terrifying growl rumbling in his chest. Stalking forward, Theodore came to stand between Klaus and Grandfather as he hovered over the latter like a threatening shadow. "Do you really think me so defenceless?" Grandfather smirked, hands clasped on the table—the perfect picture of a smug bastard. "Maybe Cetus should show _you_ what he can do"

All around the table, the remaining Hargreeves wore various expressions of shock and surprise at the sudden turn in their youngest member's attitude. From the wide eyes of Uncle Luther whose ape-like instincts were telling him to fear the predator before him, to the flinch from Uncle Diego as he jerked slightly in his seat, likely remembering that day in the warehouse when Theodore had very nearly ripped out his jugular. So it shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone when Uncle Diego's flinch was mistaken for an attack, causing Theodore to mount the table.

"Holy shit!" Auntie cursed when Theodore crouched low over the messy table, with his hands curled into laws and the eery blue scales decorating his face and neck flared in warning. His lips pulled back further as his warning growl turned into a rumbling snarl. Stringy spittle connected his jaws as his now pupils blue eyes connected with Uncle Diego's terrified brown ones and he prowled forward like a predator on the hunt. All was still for a beat as apprehensive and scared gazes shifted between their mindless nephew and their smug father; unsure of what to do or say. Even Uncle Five appeared speechless for once.

 _"Arr'et!"_ Grandfather's voice called out sharply, piercing through the fog that surrounded the mind of the blue boy. Theodore pounced. With loralite claws outstretched, the young man launched towards his uncle and straddled his chest as he pinned him to the floor. That's not to say Uncle Diego didn't struggle—he did, but the constant snapping of jaws and the strength behind the beastly young man seemed to surprise even him as the two tumbled across the floor. And then the world began to move around them again.

Above them, the pretty coloured lanterns violently swung and shook as if caught in a wind tunnel.

In the same moment, Uncle Klaus fell out of his chair at the sudden movement where he collapsed dramatically on to the floor with a yelp as he lay there cowering, Uncle Five blinked to his feet so quickly that his chair toppled over and crashed against the floor, although he appeared at odds for what to do seeing how closely entangled the two had become in his moment of pause.

In turn, Auntie jerked from her chair and made to intervene, only stopping when she began to war with herself over whether she should—would be able to Rumour them. Uncle Luther had grown unbeatably tense at the action, his primordial side screaming at him to run away and Mama had accidentally used her powers in her fright. Above them, the lanterns shook their last before exploding in much the same manner that the fruit had done earlier. "Vanya!" Uncle Five turned to the former brunette as she began to pale in her fright and the shards of glass quickly took to the air in the whirling winds. "Calm down!"

But he needn't have worried. Even consumed in this hypnotic state as he was, Theodore arguably had better control over his powers than he did when he was not. And so when his family members cowered behind pieces of furniture at the suddenly flying shards, he simply huddled low over Uncle Diego (who mistook his actions for another attack on him). The sounds of bones cracking and groaning beneath his skin, followed by the ripping of cloth and flesh seemed to be what stopped or at least paused his uncle's attacks as the man grew pale at the noise and could only watch as the back of his nephew _exploded._

More sounds of distress were heard from his relatives as blood splattered against their clothing and the furniture like a sick rendition of sakura petals in the wind. But that's not what made Uncle Diego pause—at least not quite. From his back sprung a long snake-like tail that appeared encased in the loralite blue scales that littered his flesh like freckles; and they too flared in warning as the tail whipped above their heads. With seemingly practised movements, the tail snapped back and forth knocking the shards of flying glass away like they were nothing more than annoying bees as Theodore turned to spare another threatening growl at his mother who had collapsed back into Auntie in her fright.

 _"R'tor!"_ The smug Loric command seemed to come in just in time as Theodore appeared to be ready to attack the others. But at the sound of his mothertongue, the young man seamlessly shifted back to normal. Scales laid flat back against pale flesh, bones groaned as the tail was reabsorbed into his body and finally the blue film covering his eyes gave way to his regular stormy blue-grey eyes. Unlike with the shifts brought on by himself, these ones appeared less painful if only because Theodore could not remember shifting in the first place.

Blinking away the fog that had clouded his mind, Theodore stared dumbly at Uncle Diego who sat beneath him in a sweaty mess. Cocking his head in question, Theodore turned his gaze to his other relatives with brows knotted as he silently asked what had happened. Eventually, Uncle Luther hauled him off of Uncle Diego and set him down off to the side where Theodore proceeded to turn to Grandfather with the same silent question. He was almost mindless of the carnage displayed around them, and the confused puppy eyes he wore seemed so out of place given the situation that Uncle Klaus couldn't help but snort at the insanity of it all.

Man, were they one fucked up family.


	18. Cognac Conversations

"You fancy yourself a do-gooder?" Grandfather's smug baritone echoed around the battered Tiki Lounge as he added insult to injury, reclaiming the spotlight once more whilst Uncle Diego turned on the man. While everyone slowly regained their bearings and returned to their seats, Theodore eventually collapsed into his chair where he held his aching head in his hands. Squeezing his eyes shut, the young man groaned lowly as he hid his pounding head in his arms as they lay on the fruit-splattered table. Much like when he did a full shift, there was always the painful headache that accompanied the return to his human self—not as much mind you, but still enough for him to question _why_ he kept doing it. "The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? That is a _fantastic_ delusion. The sad reality is that you're a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man over his head"

"Y-y-y-you're—you're wr-wrong" Uncle Diego violently stuttered as his father easily dismantled the larger-than-life vigilante persona that he had built up around himself. Even to Theodore, he sounded like a scared child still trying to defy his father.

"…Look" Uncle Five sighed wearily, "Forget about the President. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it"

"War?" Questioned Grandfather as he turned to Uncle Five, "Men will always be at war with each other"

 _"No,_ this is just _some_ war—I'm talking about _doomsday_ , the _end of the world"_

"Well…you're the special ones, aren't you? Why don't you band together and do something about it?"

"They want a Hail Mary, Grandfather" Theodore supplied, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Don't mumble, Cetus" Grandfather scolded.

"Yessir" Theodore sat upright with a wince as he rubbed at his pounding temples.

"So you've just given up then, Theodore?" Uncle Five scowled.

"Like I _told you,_ Uncle" Theodore turned to his smallest uncle with a mirrored expression of displeasure. "War is coming whether you like it or not—people are going to _die,_ that is the inevitable outcome of war" Next to him, Uncle Klaus winced as some sort of unseen memory played in front of his eyes. "Admittedly, yes, this war is coming a little earlier than it had originally, but the outcome will still be the same. We will fight, we will lose, we will win and the world will continue to spin, because we are nothing more than insignificant pawns in this chess game"

Uncle Five's expression turned more and more sour and each word that fell from Theodore's lips. The young man leant his arms on the table as hie continued to make his point. "Do you know _why_ the world didn't give a shit the first time around? Because it played out on their doorsteps; it wasn't shoved down their throats and so they could go on, ignoring the horrors that were going on right in front of them. Because they weren't happening to _them,_ so it didn't matter. The world is _always_ ending, Uncle, the only reason you care _this_ time around, is because it was shoved down your throat so you couldn't ignore it"

Before Uncle Five could snarl out a reply, Uncle Klaus suddenly jerked upright with a grunt, both arms rocketing into the air as he shook violently. "Jesus!" Theodore flinched at the sudden movement, twisting in his seat as his uncle performed some kind of weird manoeuvre.

"…Is he having a seizure?" Auntie asked, her eyes travelling from her nephew to her brother.

"Overdosing probably" Uncle Diego replied.

"Should we do…something?" Uncle Luther asked as Uncle Klaus ever so slowly turned to face Grandfather.

"Klaus! Now is not the time! What _are_ you doing?!" Uncle Five demanded as Uncle Klaus burnt crimson and distorted gurgling fell from his lips. It was like he was possessed, more so than what Theodore had been only moments before.

"I'm…" Uncle Klaus gasped, his words becoming stuck in his throat.

"Out with it, boy!" Grandfather snapped.

"…Ben!" Uncle Klaus collapsed to the floor once more as he lay in a shuddering mess on the floor at their feet.

 _"Isn't that the name of your dead uncle?"_ Loren asked.

"S'posedly" Theodore murmured as he watched his drunken uncle twitch and spasm on the floor (miraculously his glass had remained clutched tightly in his hands the entire time).

"Well…thank you for coming. I've seen about enough" Grandfather recollected his things and made to leave. "Come along, Cetus"

"Yes, Grandfather" Theodore sighed as he followed after the old man without complaint, stepping over his indisposed uncle on the floor.

**_THUNK!_ **

_"Hey!_ Look what you did to me!" Uncle Luther suddenly cried out as he jumped to his feet and ripped open his shirt to reveal the shaven ape chest beneath. _"Look_ at it!"

"Oh _God!"_ Theodore murmured, pausing in his step. "This again?" He wasn't the only one. While Auntie Allison had slapped a hand over her mouth in surprise at the sudden display of rebellion from Number One, Uncle Diego watched amusedly as their father's disappointed stare turned from him to the ape-man standing over the table.

"Oh shit, why?" Uncle Five swore as he defeatedly collapsed back into his chair; all sense of professionalism gone out the window. There was a beat of silence as Grandfather stared down Uncle Luther, crumbling his sudden confidence like it was nothing more than glitter on the wind.

"You, in the culottes" Grandfather pointed at Uncle Five and then gestured towards the bar, "A word, in private?"

"…Cheque, please" Auntie instructed as Uncle Five followed after Grandfather like a little shadow.

In turn, as the others prepared to leave Theodore flopped down into one of the benches of an unoccupied table. Laying lengthwise along the bench, he let his feet fell over the end of the seat as he draped his arm over his face and hid in his elbow. A low pitiful groan fell from his lips as he tried to sort through everything that had happened—including the small episode in between Uncle Diego's threats and the parade of powers, which was starting to come back in flashes. _"Well, that could've gone better"_ Loren mused.

"No shit, Sherlock" Theodore mumbled as images flashed before his eyes like they were on fast forward. Threat. Pounce. Attack. Uncle. Fear. Mama. Glass. Tail. Stop. Confusion. "Geez, what did we do?"

_"You really wanna know?"_

"…No, no, probably not" He sighed, letting his mind go as the sounds of his uncle and grandfather floated over from the bar.

"…You seem to be the sensible one of the bunch" Grandfather noted over the island music still crackling through the speakers.

"That's because I'm the oldest" Uncle Five replied. Theodore could just imagine the look of confusion written on his grandfather's face. "Y'know, technically, I'm old than you right now"

 _"Ha! He used the word 'technically!"_ Loren laughed, likely remembering the drunk conversation from the day before. Theodore just snorted in reply.

"Cognac?" Grandfather offered, likely unsure of where to start with the schoolboy.

"Mm, just a smidge" Uncle Five accepted.

"The other night you quoted Homer at me. Why?"

"You forced us all to learn it as kids—in the original Greek, no less"

 _"So he's always enjoyed those Greek stories?"_ Loren asked.

"I guess so" Theodore replied quietly, trying to keep his obvious eavesdropping on the down low.

"…This world ends in five days if we don't get out of the timeline" Uncle Five continued on.

"Worlds end" Grandfather replied, echoing the sentiment that Theodore had expressed earlier. "Palaeozoic, Jurassic, and so on"

"We can do _something_ about this one"

"Man's greatest flaw: the illusion of control"

"I need your help. All right? You're my last sane option" Uncle Five sounded more desperate than Theodore had ever heard him (admittedly he _had_ only known him about two weeks) and he tried to listen closer as the conversation took a more solemn turn. "Otherwise I gotta make a deal that I _really_ don't wanna make…What do you know about time travel?"

"In theory?"

"In practise?"

"I know it's akin to descending blindly into the depths of freezing waters and reappearing—"

"—As an acorn. Yeah"

"What transpired when tried travelling before?"

"…I botched it"

"How?"

"I jumped too far forward, got stuck in the future for 45 years in an apocalypse. Then I jumped too far backwards, except this time I brought my entire family with me"

"Maybe your appetite is disproportionate to the size of your abilities. Start small: seconds, not decades"

"Seconds?"

'Mmm"

"Look, no offence, but I need a bit more time for what I'm trying to accomplish"

"So much can change in a matter of seconds—"

 _"Amen, sister!"_ Loren crowed, throwing his metaphorical hands in the air.

"—One could overthrow an empire, one could fall in love. An acorn doesn't become an oak tree overnight"

"…I was really hoping for more than that"

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help"

"I'm sorry too. I gave you such a hard time as a kid, I didn't know any better"

"Hm. No skin off my teeth, old man"

* * *

Theodore didn't know he had drifted off to sleep until he was being jostled awake by a kick to the shins. "Mm?" He groaned irritably as his eyes blearily peeled open and he dropped the arm draped over his eyes. Blinking rapidly at the sudden change in light, he eventually propped himself up on his elbows to see that both Uncle Five and Grandfather stood at his feet with mirrored looks of amused displeasure. A familiar folder was tucked under Uncle Five's arm and it appeared that wherever had transpired after he had dozed off, had resulted in the acquirement of said folder. Theodore suspected that that meant Grandfather might be sending him away, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

"Gr—Grandfather?" Theodore yawned, his jaw audibly cracking at the action as he sat up.

"I see your shoes have mysteriously gone missing" Grandfather noted, making Theodore freeze like a deer in the headlights.

"U-um—I—I" He stammered, slowly tucking his feet beneath him as he cowered slightly beneath his grandfather's gaze. "No?"

"So there's no shoe-devouring monster under the floor, then?" He quirked a brow as his lips twitched into a tasting smirk.

"O-oh, you remember that…" Theodore trailed off as he turned away, his cheeks flushing red when he remembered the scenario in which Grandfather was referring to. At the same time, he tried to ignore Uncle Five's piercing stare as he watched the unfounded fondness passing between grandfather and grandson with barely contained jealousy. "Of _course_ you do"

"Anyhow, I believe these belong to you"

Theodore perked up at the small suede jewellery box offered to him. Sliding to his feet, Theodore excitedly took the box offered to him and with eyes gleaming brightly, he flicked the lid open to find a string of smartly polished beads lined up in row, much like how a string of pearls would lay. Carefully pulling the string of beads from the box, Theodore's eyes fluttered from the glittering apatite to the shining pounamu. "Thank you, Grandfather" Theodore breathed, smiling brightly up at the man with unconfined happiness at the gift he had been given.

In all the time he had been in his grandfather's care, not once had he ever been given more than one or two beads at once; but here he had a whole _string_ of highly polished stone beads, ones that he wasted no time in wrapping around his wrist alongside the other make-shift bracelets.

"Mm" Grandfather hummed, his face remained stoic but Theodore could see the happiness dancing in his old eyes. "This fellow, here—" He clapped Uncle Five on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over as the spotlight was briefly drawn back to the schoolboy-assassin. "—Will be in charge of your lessons from now on"

"Grandfather?" Theodore's brows knotted in confusion as his stomach dropped to his feet. His excitement was quickly replaced with trepidation as he began to realise where the old man was going with this. It sounded like he was saying goodbye for forever.

"You _will_ behave" Grandfather's voice was thicker than usual, unlike anything Theodore had heard before. A quick glance out of the corner of his eyes showed that Uncle Five hadn't really noticed the change, far too occupied with awkwardly standing off to the side, rocking slightly on his heels in his impatience.

"…Y-yessir" Theodore nodded as his heart thudded in his chest.

"Very well, then I believe this is farewell" Grandfather nodded, readjusting his blazer as if his hands needed something to do whilst he retained a sense of professionalism.

Theodore held no such qualms as he launched himself forward and wrapped himself around the old man, startling a quiet noise out of him in surprise. Burying his head in his grandfather's chest, Theodore gripped tight to the back of his blazer as he listened to his heart beat in his ear; a small whimper muffled against the cloth. Ever so slowly, he felt Grandfather's arms come to rest around his shoulders, returning the desperate hug in a much more hesitant manner.

As the two stood there—grandfather and grandson—silently faring each goodbye, they missed the look of utter shock and jealously that had engraved itself onto his uncle's face. Shock that Reginald Hargreeves would openly—willingly express any type of affection for another human being and jealousy that it was his nephew and not him, who was the recipient of his father's love (however restrained it may be). There was guilt that warred with impatience as he rocked on his heels; wanting nothing more than to split the two apart and frogmarch his nephew back to Elliot's. But a single voice twisted in his mind: How did his nephew attain the fatherly love that he never did?


	19. We're All Mad Here

**_21 November 1963_ **

It seemed that unnecessarily elegant buildings were just something that ran in the family, because the monstrosity that Theodore tiredly stood in front of as the sun peaked over the horizon, practically screamed wealth. The pantheon-styled building with its green turrets and sloping roofs looked right at home between the cone-shaped shrubbery and blooming roses lining the driveway. Of course, the multicoloured party bus parked out the front completely cracked and shattered whatever delusion had been painted—and that wasn't even counting the infinite number of floral garlands twisting around the front columns in colourful spirals.

Uncle Klaus had barely jerked an eyebrow his way when the young man had followed him home. Not even when Uncle Five had angrily glared the drunken man into submission, when their nephew had more or less exchanged hands at the bus stop outside of _Southland Life._ Nor when Theodore had dozed on his Uncle's shoulder as they sat scrunched up on the mysteriously sticky bus. In fact, Uncle Klaus had merely hoisted the blue boy off onto one of his many, _many_ followers with a half-hearted explanation and flowery words of praise and worship that Theodore had half-pie recognised to be lyrics from some pop song he'd heard back in the 2000s.

Not that Theodore could really blame the man; the small snippets that had been coming back to him about what he had done told him enough that he'd very likely scared the man (and his other family members) at the very least. In all honesty, he was just glad he hadn't been dumped on the streets or forced to return to Hobo junction following the failed dinner.

Aqua trimmed hands yanked Theodore inside, pulling him from his thoughts and through the twisting corridors at such a speed he could only catch glimpses of the different rooms. There was a lounge with the large bay windows and frilled cushions spilt about the place, the sitting room that was bare save for the large ornate portrait of Uncle Klaus in a Buddha-like pose and a decent covering of dust. There was a multitude of bedrooms that were decorated in a very bohemian-hippie fashion with beds crammed between mountains of stuff and so on. It was like Uncle Klaus had taken a house and just filled it to the brim with all the things he'd never had—like that weirdly shaped sculpture in the corner which looked almost sexual in its posturing and seemed to follow you no matter which way you turned.

Confusion warred with exhaustion as another pair of grabby hands hooked themselves through his other arm and he was all but frog-marched through the building and towards one of the many washrooms in the mansion, with his tour guides happily chirping in his ears the entire way. They almost sounded like the consistent buzzing that followed Uncle Klaus everywhere, like gnats in the summer. Mercifully, Theodore was left alone to wash (although the large windows that ran the length of one of the walls and the large pool-like quality of the bath appeared to be there in order to put the bathers' nakedness on display). Theodore may not have cared about his state of dress (or lack thereof), but that didn't mean he particularly cared for the eyes of another on him whilst he felt vulnerable. So it was that the little blue boy turned his scaly back to the stained windows and dropped into the lukewarm water left in the tub; sinking up to his ears and batted away a wayward petal brushing at his nose as he closed his eyes against the hangover still prickling at his brain.

* * *

The clothes that had been left out for him were a pair of matching aqua scrubs that his self-proclaimed tour guides of 'Destiny's Children' had left for him. Leaving the towel to hang over his head like a habit, Theodore stared blandly down at the clean clothes offered to him—they reminded him of a nurse's uniform if he were being honest. Of course, the (not-so-subtle) embroidery around the collar and hems gave off the same bohemian style that he had seen displayed throughout the rest of the house and tossed that thought aside.

Chucking aside the tent-like pants, he slipped the oversized shirt over his head and let the hem graze against the top of his thighs against his jeans, like a nightgown (replacing the torn shirt he had been wearing earlier). Next he slung Elliot's garish cardigan overtop of the whole thing, without a care if they looked good together or not. If he were being honest, it felt a lot like he was wearing pyjamas—which was never a problem—but a quick glance in the mirror also reminded him of his days in Grandfather's laboratory; wearing the spotted hospital gown that had barely been more than a thin covering.

Yawning widely, Theodore emerged from the bathroom where he was met with more enthusiastic patrons of Uncle Klaus' cult as they exchanged the dirty items in his hands for some fruit & motherly instructions to eat it all, as he was shooed towards the only closed door in the whole mansion. His hungover brain mulled over the sweetness of the fruit in his hands as his faceless (like in dreams where you knew the person, but you couldn't see their face) knocked primly on the door—a complete contrast to the laid-back persona they portrayed.

Tired as he was, Theodore barely heard the flowery exchange between leader and follower as he was handed off to his uncle. Stepping over the threshold of what he could only assume to be Uncle Klaus' room, he let his tired gaze wander over the many frilly and garishly patterned cushions & ottomans thrown haphazardly about the room. There was a matching portrait of himself over the unlit fireplace and several garlands hanging from the gold-encrusted mantelpiece. The larger lamps were covered by lacy cloth and the large windows by sheer curtains, giving the room a warm and cozy glow. It practically screamed 'KLAUS!' There was even little handwritten notes and quotes plastered to the walls from little odd things the Hargreeves family had said over the years (including himself).

Theodore frowned down at the frilly maroon ottoman in front of him after he had stumbled over it, like it had offended him in some way. But he stepped over it nevertheless and flopped down onto another not too far away, content in the sagginess of the item which enveloped him like a hug. He couldn't quite stop the contented purr falling from his lips as he curled up happily in the weak patch of sunlight, despite whatever Uncle Klaus was trying to say to him.

* * *

 _"…You're not even listening!"_ Klaus whined from the other end of the room when he realised that neither his (dead) brother nor his nephew were paying him any attention.

"He's like a little kitty!" Ben cooed as he sat perched on a nearby cushion, staring down at his purring nephew and wanting nothing more than to pet him like the feline he appeared to emulate. Theodore twisted around like a pretzel as he swatted at the air, his brows knitted together in annoyance at whatever was bugging him. The rumbling purrs interrupted for only a moments as he mumbled something about annoying buzzing flies.

"Buzzing?" Ben turned to Klaus in confusion as he leant out of the way of the wayward hand. "Didn't he mention that earlier?"

"Yeah…" Klaus perked up a little as he reached for the porcelain tea cup behind him. "Something about imaginary friends and buzzing"

"You don't think…?"

"What? That he can hear you? C'me on, Ben! He might be an alien, but even aliens can't hear the dead!"

"So what were all those weird looks for then, huh?"

"What looks?"

"Y'know those ones—the ones where he looked like he wanted to slap you"

"You'll have to specify"

"Y'know what I mean!"

"Oh now you're just making excuses!"

"Ask him then! Go on! See for yourself!"

"Fine! I will!" Klaus reached over and weakly hefted a floppy pillow at their nephew in a lazy effort to wake him up.

 _"Klaus!"_ Ben scolded when Theodore jolted upright as the cushion met his face.

"Wha—?" Theodore propped himself up just enough for them to see that his damp hair now sat askew atop his head as he turned confusedly to Klaus.

"Teddy!" Klaus sang as if he hadn't just thrown a cushion at his head. "What's with the buzzing thing?"

"Buzzing thing?" Theodore repeated tiredly as he flopped back down, trying to get comfortable once more when he saw that it was just Klaus lazily sipping at his tea.

"Yeah, you said something about buzzing and _gah!"_ Klaus lazily mimed _Thriller_ claws, though one hand still clasped onto the porcelain cup, so it was a little awkward.

"So?" Theodore rolled around, tying himself up into endless knots like he was made of play dough.

 _"So"_ Klaus rolled his eyes in Ben's direction as if this conversation was as painful as trying to pull blood from a rock. "What did ya mean?"

"Innit self explanatory? Your ghosty friends or whatever buzz like horse flies or one of those spirit box thingies" Theodore sighed as he situated himself and a hand snapped out to grab the offending pillow from where it had landed on the floor, now sitting-in snuggly against his chest. "It's kind of annoying actually"

The last bit Theodore muttered to himself, but Ben—who caught the words anyway—appeared both affronted by the notion that his nephew was annoyed with whatever buzzing he unconsciously emitted and happy that he knew something or someone was actually there (at least when Klaus was around).

 _"See?"_ Ben turned triumphantly to Klaus. "I _told_ you so!"

"…That means shit!" Klaus defended weakly as he gestured with his tea cup, frowning when he spilt some booze over the back of his hand. "He thinks _I'm_ the one who's buzzing!"

"No, he said ghosty friends! That's _me!"_

"Yeah? Well, he also said you were annoying! So _ha!"_

"Oh what would you know?"

"More than you!"

"Yeah _right!"_

The pair bickered back and forth as they often did; the sound of Theodore's rumbling purrs turned snores the soundtrack to the brotherly moment. Soon enough the conversation shifted to lesser things until they came back full circle to the issue at hand. Possession. Specifically, Ben's possession of Klaus. "…I hate to disappoint you, Benny boy, but you are _not_ getting in this body! No way!" Klaus slurred as he fought the exhaustion pulling at his lids. Ben knew it was only a matter of time.

"Well, you're gonna have to fall asleep eventually" Ben replied smugly.

"This is nothing! Once in Rio—oh _Rio!—_ I spent _eight_ straight days up"

 _"Without_ chemical assistance"

"Listen—! The point is, I'm not gonna let you in! If you wanna possess someone so bad, take Teddy!"

"Why bother when I have a willing body right here?" Ben refused, sparing a glance at their nephew who had somehow acquired another cushion and was clinging to it like it was a teddy bear. _A teddy bear with a teddy bear! Ha!_ Ben smiled at the thought.

"I am _not_ willing!"

"You will be!" Ben taunted as Klaus began to nod off. The sound of his ghostly movements must've alerted his drunken brother as he shuffled closer to him.

"Gah!" Klaus jerked upright in time to see that Ben had moved closer to him, "I hate your face!"

"I hate all of you!"

"I just—"

"Sh! Sh! Sh! Shh! It's okay, fall asleep…" Ben cooed as he shifted closer with every chance he got. Whenever Klaus closed his eyes, the ghostly Hargreeves stalked forward until he was practically sitting in Klaus' lap. His plans however, were foiled by the ringing of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room hidden beneath some exotic tree and lace.

**_DING DONG!_ **

"Hey! Ben—! Jesus Christ—! Will you please just—!" Klaus jolted upright and backwards when he was roused by the grandfather clock, only to be met with his smug brother right in his face. Booze slipped from his flowing tea cup and decorated mostly himself and the carpet in his surprise. The pout that decorated his lips at the loss of the spiked tea made Ben grin wider, if at all possible. "Look, I'm going through a lot right now!"

"You're _always_ going through a lot!" Ben retorted.

 _"Ben!"_ Klaus threw up his hands in exasperation. "The love of my life is going to die and I can't stop it! I've tried every trick in the time travellers playbook—!"

 _"Here_ we go" Ben rolled his eyes as his brother moaned and groaned. In the background, Theodore could be heard mumbling some sort of gibberish as he turned over.

"—I told him I loved him, I told—I told him his future…"

"And the only thing you succeeded in doing was freaking him out"

 _"God!_ I _hate_ this! Not being able to do anything!"

"Klaus, the way you're feeling right now is how I feel _everyday._ All I do is watch you make the same mistakes over and over and over _and over and over again._ Welcome to powerlessness"

"Oh my _God!_ That must _suck!_ I'm sorry…"

"…You wanna make it up to me—?"

"—No! You _cannot_ possess me! No!"

"C'me on! _Please!_ Just for a few minutes!"

"Why? What's so _damn_ important?"

"Jill! I—I…wanna talk to her"

"Jill…that's the, um, the Moroccan girl with the limp, right?"

 _"Seriously?_ We've been over this"

"But I so rarely listen to you~!"

_"Klaus!"_

"…Alright, fine!"

"Yes!"

"But wait—!" Klaus suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Ben by the lapels, pulling him in close enough that if he were still alive he would be able to smell the horrible stench floating on his brother's breath. Perks of being dead. The sudden motion caught Ben off-guard, but his moment of shock was tossed aside in favour of the excitement and anticipation rushing through him. At this point he'd probably agree to anything anyway if only that meant he could get inside of his brother. _Ew—not like that!_ Ben shook his head at the thought, refocusing in on what Klaus was trying to tell him. "—We need to talk about ground rules"

"Ground rules, okay!" Ben nodded enthusiastically. "Let's hear 'em!"

"Rule #1…" Klaus began his long list of 'ground rules' as he led Ben out through the mansion to the rolling gardens where most of his cult spent their days tending the flora planted there. Ben should've known that Klaus' 'ground rules' would be entirely too long and dramatic since he fought against rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time as he followed after his brother like a lost puppy, just waiting for their treat.

It wasn't until the pair were finally stood in front of the large French doors that Ben turned excitedly to Klaus (who was still listing rules) filled with anticipation. This was going to be the first time in 30-odd years since he had felt any semblance of _physical_ connection outside of his brother and he couldn't wait. _Had the taste of air changed? Did dirt still feel like it used to? What was eating like again? Were hugs still as warm and comforting as they used to be?_ So many questions buzzed through his head as he impatiently waited for his brother to let him in, so to speak. "…No cutting of the hair!" Klaus warned, his rules finally coming to an end. "I love my look right now. Also, no touchy-touchy down there" He gestured to his crotch, something which Ben rolled at his eyes at. _"Well,_ maybe I won't mind y'know, but just don't look because I'm _shy!_ And finally, I'm dairy-free. _Trust me_ on that!"

"Thank you" Ben grinned wholeheartedly, unable to fully express himself as he prepared to dive into the possession.

"Oh whatever! Just—" Klaus swung open the doors before turning back to his dead brother. "Just make it quick!"

Taking a running jump, Ben slipped inside Klaus— _ick!—_ where he quickly took control of the reins, pushing Klaus' subconscious to the side with barely contained joy. The body the two shared jolted for a moment of two as it became accustomed to the extra soul now residing inside before it grew still and Ben turned giddily to the open air. For the first time in 30-odd years, Number Six finally _breathed_ and it was _exhilarating._ Hands, his—their hands petted gently across his body like he couldn't quite believe what was going on. Full of wonder and awe, Ben quickly discarded the subconscious desire to disobey his brother's rules—helped along by the twinge in the back of their shared brain from Klaus—in favour of exploring the beautiful gardens he had traversed many times since their arrival. Only this time the experience was _entirely_ different.

Now Ben could walk through things instead of _through_ them, like the little side gate that squeaked and whined on its hinges as it was opened. Meandering past some of Destiny's Children, he made his way over to the orchard where the grapefruits were gathered together. Splitting one of the ripe fruits open, he took a large bite from the flesh—a bite which he immediately regretted as the sourness hit him like a brick to the temple. Next he moved onto the piles of upturned dirt and compost that lay in organised piles along the flowerbeds, ready and waiting for new homes. Tossing aside the split grapefruit, Ben hurdled the blooming flowers and toed off his boots as he moved to dig his toes into the squishy dirt piled there. "I _love_ dirt!" Ben sighed happily, scrunching the squishy mulch between his toes before he collapsed to his knees and fell flat on his face, spitting out some bark chips as he did so.

"Hello?" Murmured a gentle voice above him that cut through his contented moans as he lay in the dirt. Ben bolted upright at the chiming of her tones, eyes wide in not-quite disbelief at the girl who stood haloed by the mid-morning sun.

"Oh, hello Jill" Ben greeted, trying to play both himself and the eccentric cult leader that was his brother. At least he could blame his odd actions on that.

"Cool if I join you?" She gestured to the dirt pile, lips twitching up into a tentative smile as her eyes traced the line of dirt covering one side of his face.

"No—I mean…yeah, of course" Ben stumbled over his words as he blinked dumbly up at her. He was _finally_ actually properly talking to someone outside of Klaus! To her!

Both giggled like little children as they lay back in the dirt, uncaring for the stains on their clothes as they created dirt angels. Ben felt himself flush and beam with happiness at every minute touch and graze of their fingertips. Her laughter mingled with his—well, Klaus'—and sounded like the blessed birds singing in his ears. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the pair rose from the dirt and made their way further into the gardens where some seating (litters of ottomans and hammocks) had been set up in a somewhat secluded area. The pair sat across from each other as they feasted on fresh strawberries grown from the gardens. All the while Ben had been unable to take his eyes off of Jill; unable to look away from the dimples in her cheeks when she laughed nor the feeling that bubbled in his chest when he was with her. "You're different today" Jill noted as Ben sucked on the strawberry in his mouth in an almost sensual manner.

"Really? How so?" Ben replied, forgetting for a moment that Jill saw Klaus and not him. Slight panic set in as he began to scramble for an excuse as to why he seemed different.

"You're…dorkier"

"Oh"

"No, no I like it"

"Y'know I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you since you joined"

"I don't believe you" She dismissed going for another strawberry as her joyous smile disappeared.

"It's true!" Ben retorted, wishing more than anything to see that smile again. The one that hid a kiss in the corner. "You love your garden, you sing to your turnips. You're so good with people. Everybody comes to you for advice and you give it so freely, and…I—I love the way you tug on your earlobe when you read"

"I had to buy a cream for it" Jill reached for her ear at the same time that Ben did his own.

"I know"

Both dissolved into giggles once more, only these were ones fuelled by more than just the childish delight of playing in the gardens with a friend. More than just the giddy rebellion in dirtying their crisply clean clothes. It was so much more, and yet it could not be described."Can I…" Ben asked hesitantly, "Can I smell your hair?"

"Sure?" Jill replied a little off put by the odd request. Leaning in close, Jill tilted her head to the side as Ben inhaled deeply. Her perfume of sweat, dirt and strawberries wafted over him and Ben returned to his giddiness once more; hands fisting on his pants as if he was physically restraining himself from doing more. "God, you're incredible…"

"You're—you're incredible too" Ben chuckled into her ear.

"Wanna do it?" Jill asked as the pair sat back.

"Do what?" Ben's brow knotted in confusion at the sudden confidence in the shy girl.

"Have sex—"

 _Wha—?_ Ben choked on his spit at the proposition, unable to form any words as he blinked dumbly at the girl in front of him whilst she continued to talk, unaware of his current thoughts. He was also trying very hard not to listen to Klaus wolf whistling in the back of their shared brain.

"—The holy union of our multiple spirits"

"Sure, but, uh—" He spluttered unable to come up with a proper excuse. A dark traitorous thought flitted through his mind reminding him that Jill saw Klaus and not him—that she loved Klaus, not Ben.

"But what?"

"Uh, there's something you need to know—nn!" Ben went to say, but was cut off as he suddenly found himself fighting Klaus for control.

"Are you alright?" Jill asked concernedly.

"Yeah" Ben grunted, physically fighting his own body. _God! What must she think?_ "Never been better"

"Good" She chuckled before suddenly moving to straddled him, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

"Jill, you don't— _Oh—!"_ Ben tried to explain only to ending up gasping when she latched on tightly causing a vivid blush to spring up along his pale cheeks. "—You don't know the real me"

"Oh yeah?" Jill smirked, now clearly flirting with the flustered ghost boy.

"Yeah"

"I know _everything_ about you—"

"—Jill—"

"—I have poured myself over your teachings, I have sung your Vedas, I have committed every part of your body to my memory"

"But Jill, that's not me" The dark thought solidified with her words, forming into a pit as she sat in her lap and sang his brother's praises. "I'm somebody different, I'm…I'm a virgin"

"What about last week?"

"Huh?"

"You, me and Keechie? In the sex swing? We practised the suspended, extended, four-part unification"

"Klaus! You're so filthy!" Ben cried, shaking his head as he silently mourned for his lost chance.

"Yes, you are, Daddy!" Purred Jill, misunderstanding what he was trying to say. Her hands ran through his—their long locks, knotting her fingers amongst the long hairs as she planted her lips on his.

"Oh…oh, hey— _Oh!"_ Ben spluttered eloquently into the kiss.

"Mmm…" Her delicate lips moved hungrily from his to his neck where she began to deliciously suckle at the skin there.

"Wait, just— _Ooh_!" Ben moaned as Jill moved to pull his earlobe between her teeth. His own hands fluttered in the air about her as he tried to figure out what to do. "O-okay—okay—"

"—Hey _Daddy!"_ Interrupted the familiarly sharp voice of his brother, Diego. "You got a sec?"

"Diego!" Ben (not-quite) cheered as Jill pulled back and glared up at the man before them.

"C'me on, we gotta go" Diego gripped Ben by the forearm and hauled him to his feet, unwillingly to wait.

"Yeah…" Ben readily agreed, before turning to a put-out Jill. "I'll be right back"

"Okay" She nodded disappointedly.

"I promise"

"C'me on"

"Coming!"


	20. Posses, Puke Bags & Plot Holes

Tripping back through the gardens, now tightly held in Diego's grip, Ben barely registered the sight of Theodore up, awake and fiercely clinging to a pair of teens garbed in the aqua clothes of Destiny's Children like they would disappear at any moment. _That's sweet—I wonder how he knows them?_ Ben thought as Diego dragged him further inwards, towards the mansion and away from their blue nephew hidden amongst the foliage. "You need to come with me" Diego insisted, sparing a glance back over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed.

"Where?" Ben asked, curious as he let his brother take him away. Honestly, he was just happy to be able to touch his brother again.

"Five found a way home" Diego explained as members of the cult bowed and prayed to him—well, Klaus.

"It so _great_ to talk to you again, Diego!" Ben giggled.

"You hear what I just said?"

"Yeah"

"Are you high, Klaus?"

"No, I'm not Klaus" Ben pulled the two to a stop when Diego rolled his eyes at him. "I'm Ben"

"You _are_ high" Diego brushed off. "Look I don't have time for this. Where's Theo—?"

"—I can prove it!" He caught his brother's wrist as he went to leave. "Ask me something only Ben would know"

"…Okay. When we were little, what did you reprogram Allison's Teddy Ruxpin to say?" Diego leant in close, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Luth~er sniffs Dad's under~wear" Ben sang with a smile.

"Holy…shit!" Diego gasped aghast as he stumbled backwards, hands over his face. An action which was quickly replaced by the fierce hug he pulled Ben into. Ben instantaneously melted into his brother's embrace as Diego gripped tight to his shirt as if he would disappear. "I—I don't get it, I mean…Klaus said you didn't make to Dallas"

"Yeah, well, Klaus says a lot of things" Ben replied as the pair pulled back, but remained close. "But guess what? I can possess him now! And it's _freaking_ awesome!"

"Okay, you can tell me all about it on the way back to 2019. Okay?" Diego's hands moved to cup his brothers' face as he stared into the gleaming eyes of Klaus that just shined with the mischievousness of Ben. Two brothers for the price of one.

"What about Destiny's Children? We can't just leave them!" Ben replied, easily accepting that their brother had found a way back. "Klaus should be the one to tell them—"

"—Oh no, no, no, no, no, okay? _You_ stay in this body. We need someone responsible behind the wheel, okay?"

"All right Diego. Will you wait, I just need like, ten—ten minutes"

"Actually" Diego acquiesced as he checked the ticking watch Five had gifted him with. "There's something that I need to do first. Meet me in the alley behind Elliot's in 30 minutes, okay?"

"Okay"

 _"_ _Don't_ be late"

"I won't"

"Good to see you, brother" Diego embraced him one final time before hightailing it out of the mansion to who-knows-where.

"You too! Bye!" Ben called his farewell as Diego left, his halcyon attitude quickly cut short by Klaus' continuous attempts to eject him from his body. The pair jerked to the side as Ben quickly slapped himself back into Klaus and dread set in. Time was ticking.

With eyes wide, Ben's thoughts raced as he scrambled for what to do. They had a way back! But he only had 30 minutes— _30 minutes!—_ to say goodbye! What could you even do in 30 minutes? Who would he tell? What would he do? Theo! Their nephew, still didn't know! Scurrying back through the gardens, Ben retraced their steps to where he had seen said blue boy in passing with little difficulty. The constant jerking motions that their shared body made, made him look like a drunken Jazz performer with a burst appendix. Thankfully, all the world saw was Klaus, so that was at least some kind of salvation, he supposed.

After some helpful directions by some concerned passersby and more needless praises to the (fake) prophet, Ben eventually found himself back in the orchards and making his way over towards the trio sat in the branches on one of the plum trees lining the way. "Theo! Nn! Theo!" Ben called out, jerking every so often as he tried to remain inside and in control.

"Uncle Klaus?" Theodore's scaly blue face peered out through the violet fruit as the three young men turned to face the man. Their nephew leant out of the tree, one hand gripping tight to the branch on which Kiran (the elvish-looking blonde with plum juice running down his chin) sat. Across from them, Yugi (the sharp-eyed ginger) anxiously watched the thin branch sway with the added weight. "What's going on?"

"Theo!" Ben called as Klaus though their hands up in the air in an attempt to get rid of him.

"Uncle Klaus? Are you okay?" Theodore furrowed his brows as the other pair of teens shared a look between them.

"I'm not Klaus!" Ben tried again.

"What?"

"It's me! Ben!"

"Uncle…Ben?" Theodore easily scrambled further down the tree until he was sitting in front of the elder man, his legs locked around the thin branch the only thing keeping him in place. "Aren't you dead?"

"Well, yes—"

"—Maybe he's possessed!" Kiran called out from above them, "Remember, Nash could do something similar!"

"Yeah, but his were more like puppets!" Theodore leant back as he called up to his friends. "And he never wore people like suits!"

"It's less like a suit and more like a Russian nesting doll situation" Yugi mused, pushing aside a stray branch to investigate the (not) cult leader.

"—Look! It doesn't matter!" Ben cut through their musings even as he drunk in the easy exchanges between the three boys. "We have to go! Now! Five found a way back!"

"Really? We can all go back?"

"Yeah, but we have to—wait, what do you mean 'all?"

"Kiran & Yugi are from our time too" Theodore nodded up towards the two teens who stayed down at him almost predatorily. "Or well they would be if they'd stayed there"

"Wha—?" Ben felt like the world had dropped out from beneath him at the revelation. This plus the earlier situation with Jill and Diego made for a mushy brain that didn't seem to quite work right.

"We grew up together" Theodore supplied half-heartedly. "At least before—"

"—Before we escaped" Yugi deadpanned.

"Uh, yeah…"

"Escape?" Ben's brows knotted as Theodore's past unravelled before him like a loose thread.

"We, uh, left about, eh…2014" Kiran shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Tuesday 24th January 2014" Yugi amended with a deadpan, easily recalling the date in which their freedom had _finally_ come.

"Yeah, that" Theodore agreed, trying to hide the wince that accompanied the memory. They all reacted similarly. "Do you think there's room for two more?"

"Uh…" Ben's gaze roved over the three sitting in the plum tree and tried to swallow around the lump that had suddenly sprung up in his throat. It seemed that even Klaus was shocked as he had halted his ministrations for the time being. "We—we—you—I—uh, w-we need to meet up at the alley behind Elliot's in 30 minutes…"

"Cool, we'll meet you there"

"Right…" Ben nodded, before he retraced his steps and made his way back to the mansion with the boys voices floating back to him the entire way.

"So that's your uncle?" Yugi asked.

"Both of them apparently" Theodore replied nonchalantly.

"Ha! It's like a sale at Macy's!" Kiran laughed, before his tone took on a cartoonic salesmen tone. "Buy one get one free!"

* * *

By the time Ben had _finally_ made it to the front door, Klaus was trying his utmost to fling him from the body the two shared and he in turn, was doing his utmost to remain inside. It was like a reverse Bucking Bronco ride. As he scurried across the threshold and out towards the shrubbery-lined driveway, he wanted nothing more than to pick at the scab that Theodore had created in revealing more of his past just moments before. But of course, he was far more occupied with the weird dance he was currently occupied in and the deadline creeping ever closer.

Ben had almost made it to the line of foliage until Keechie, one of Klaus' most fervent followers appeared behind him like magic and looking like a kicked puppy. "Hey, uh, Prophet! Prophet! Where are you going?" Keechie chased after him with big innocent eyes blinking at him from behind his thick glasses.

"Uh…quick vision quest!" Ben scrambled, thinking on the fly as he prayed that he could get out of there in time without accidentally murdering all of Destiny's Children. "Be back in a few years. Maybe"

"Well, wait, wait, wait! Who will bless the pool waters?" Keechie pursued.

 _Geez, you really want to dot the i's and cross the t's, don't you?_ Ben silently hissed as he turned back. " _You_ can do it, Keechie! You can do everything from now on!"

"No, Prophet! I can't!"

"Keechie!" Ben quickly retraced his steps to embrace the quaking man. He just hoped that Keechie couldn't see the slightly manic look in his eyes. "Bless the water, bless the air, bless the sex swing for all I care! Would you just do me one favour?"

"Yes, of course, Prophet! Anything!"

"Tell Jill that rollin' in the dirt was the greatest moment of my life"

"Uh—Prophet! Wait!" Keechie called as Ben tried to make a break for it. Again.

"C'me on!" Ben groaned irritably as he plastered on a fake smile and turned back to the bespectacled man who remained on the front porch of the mansion.

"Any last words of wisdom before you go?"

"Oh…my God!" Ben spluttered, saying the first things that came to mind as he backpedalled. He wasn't really sure why it was the Backstreet Boys—he blamed Klaus. "We're back again. Brothers! Sisters! Everybody sing! We're gonna bring you the flavour! We're gonna show you how!"

"Prophet…!" Keechie murmured sorrowfully as he watched Ben and Klaus disappear into the shrubbery like a child watching by the window as their parent left.

* * *

The drunken Jazz singer impression that Ben had been doing for the last few minutes all they way to the alley behind _Morty's TVs_ had certainly gained some odd looks from the passersby; a few had even crossed the street or steered their children away from him, likely thinking that he wasn't quite there. Which wasn't far off, to be fair. Grunting and gurgling down the final stretch, he found his strength waning as he physically fought against Klaus. It was a lot harder now that the two shared the one body; although it probably didn't look any different than when the two had been rolling around on the hot barren road when they had fled from San Fransisco earlier in the week. But Ben didn't have it in him to be embarrassed, not right then when their arms were swinging wildly and he was trying to make sure that they met up with the others on time, least they got stranded. Again.

Eventually, the pair swung around the corner into the right alley, narrowly missing the toppled bin as they did so. Ben could spy both Five and Luther at the end of the alleyway with one of the black briefcases in hand. Fleetingly he wondered where Theodore had gotten to and the urge to embrace both of his (polar) brothers at the end of the alley was strong, but currently he was a bit more preoccupied with the eviction of the body he currently possessed. "Hey! Hey!" Ben panted as they danced closer. "We made it!"

"What do you mean 'we?" Five puzzled as their shared body jolted and seized.

"Get…out!" Klaus grunted as Ben popped out from his shoulder, fighting against the hands that held him.

"No!" Ben retorted, stubbornly.

"Out!" Klaus groaned as his entire body seemed to gurgle ferociously. Now bent in half, the possessed pair were finally separated as Number Four emptied the contents of his stomach (and more) onto the concrete at his feet.

"Ugh, gross!" Luther scrunched his nose up in disgust as both Klaus and Ben collapsed to the ground in exhaustion—one dry, the other very, _very_ wet. "I can't believe it! I mean _you're_ here!"

"We've got eight minutes left!" Five worried, checking his watch for the umpteenth time as he clung tightly to the briefcase in his other hand.

"I just had the _strangest_ dream…!" Klaus whined as he stared up at the afternoon sun through half-lidded eyes.

 _"_ _Where_ are the others?!" Five demanded angrily as if asking again would make them magically appear. Time slipped through their fingers like fine sand in an hour glass and soon enough, Five was more or less a ball of buzzing irritable energy. Luther, similarly pacing beside him.

"We've got a _minute_ left!" Luther banged his large fist against the tarnished dumpsters besides him as he began to pace. It seemed that his anger was growing too as the time slipped away and no one showed.

"What's going on, guys?" Klaus slurred, his voice hoarse as he lay on the ground. "Are we going somewhere?"

"It was a _simple_ task!" Five ranted as he paced like a caged animal, ignoring Klaus as he did so. "A _simple task!_ All we had to do was _be_ here! Didn't have to fight a giant sea monster, no! An army of mutants? _Nein!"_

"I can't believe this!" Breathed Luther. Ben knew that his blonde brother could be easily worked up; but as he watched his brothers pace, he thought that this time Luther seemed to be feeding off of Five's real anger in an order to still feel some semblance of leadership.

"It was handed to us on a silver platter!"

"Could you moan just a little softer!" Klaus whined as he hauled himself upright. "My head is _killing_ me!"

 _"_ _Listen_ to me, you _useless puke bag!"_ Five snarled, creeping as close as he dared whilst still skirting the foul-smelling puddle Ben remained seated in. "WE JUST BLEW OUR CHANCE TO SAVE THE WORLD!"

**_WHIR! WHIR! CLICK!_ **

"God _dammit!"_ Five cursed as his gaze snapped to the vibrating briefcase now settled at their feet. Gripping it by the handles, Five swung and launched the briefcase up into the air where it disappeared with a zap and a whoosh of crackling blue energy.

"Shit!" Luther sighed as he watched their last hope disappear.

"We were _that_ close. _That close!"_

"Now what?" Luther turned to Five who continued to pace. The large man had returned to lean against the dumpster whilst Klaus sat with his head in his hands. Apparently Ben's hypothesis had been correct because as soon as the briefcase was gone, Luther was quickly calming down. Something which could not be said for Five.

"Now _nothing,_ Luther, all right?" Five snapped over Klaus' groans. _"Make your peace with God!"_

"What? What about Allison? And Vanya? And Theodore?"

"Screw them! Screw them all! They should've _been here!_ And _you!"_ Five turned on Klaus, "I specifically _told you_ to do as I said and watch Theodore!"

"And what about Diego?" Klaus slurred as he ignored the jab from Five. Instead he watched amusedly as Five took his frustrations out on a pile of discarded boxes behind the dumpster. "He's quite a responsible young man, no?"

"Something _must've_ happened to them!" Luther suggested a little worriedly. Ben tried not to let his thoughts linger on that option as he flicked off another miscellaneous chunk from his form and tried not to gag at the stench. Could ghosts even puke?

 _"_ _Screw Diego!"_ Five paced, " _Screw everybody!_ I was better off on my own in the Apocalypse!"

"Five! C'me on…"

"Y'know what, Luther? It's every Hargreeves for themselves now! How 'bout that?"

Ben could only watch as Five disappeared into the building behind them, slamming the door shut unnecessarily hard as he did so. "Did Five just get meaner?" Klaus whimpered as Ben silently threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Klaus, go check on Allison, okay? Make sure she's okay" Luther turned to them. "Find the others and we'll meet back here. I'll handle Five" With that he jogged after their irate brother, intending to calm him down enough to get a proper plan in motion, one that they would all—hopefully—stick to.

"And you—!" Klaus leant against the dumpster in order to help himself to his feet before he turned on Ben to scold him. "You've had your possession privileges revoked, mister!"

"I regret _nothing!"_ Ben fired back tiredly as Klaus wandered off to find the rest of their family.

"Just stay out of me!"

"I REGRET NOTHING!"

"Back off!"

"NOTHING, I SAY!"


	21. Blasts from the Past

**_Earlier that Same Day_ **

Theodore awoke to the sun beating down on his back and a crick in his neck from the awkward position in which he had slept. Mercifully the room was empty when he awoke, no more pillows to the face nor buzzing in his ears. The scent of booze and smoke lingered on the wind, but that may have just been a permanent fixture of the place. Getting to his feet with a yawn and stretching his back with a satisfying pop and crack, the young Garde ran a hand through messy locks before deciding to take a wander through the expansive gardens that ran the length of the back half of the property. "How the hell did Uncle Klaus manage to afford this?" Theodore mused as he stood in the open doorway leading out to the patio.

 _"Don't ask me, monkey"_ Loren grunted, his tone still slurred from their shared sleep. _"I'm surprised he even knows what day it is"_

"Yeah…" Theodore sighed deeply as he began to wander through the extravagant gardens. Did their family ever do things by halves? "But that's not exactly any different from before, remember?"

_"How should I know? We barely know your aunt & uncles!"_

"And yet here we are"

_"And here we are"_

"We're pretty fucked, aren't we?"

_"More than normal?"_

"Oh ha-ha!" Theodore deadpanned as his eyes brightened at the reclusive pond he'd found at the back of the orchard-lined gardens. He didn't even have to think it through as his clothes fell to the wayside, didn't even blink as scales overtook flesh and he shed one skin for another before he slipped beneath the water's edge, relinquishing control over to Loren.

* * *

Roiling coils of muscle intertwined as the Garde snake happily twisted beneath the water much as they had done before Grandfather had found him. Loren wasn't sure how much time had passed beneath the water as they contented themselves with languidly chasing webbed feet of the startled geese above them and the glittering scales of the koi around them. It wasn't until they felt something stroke the scales that had breached the water's speckled surface that they were pulled from their simple musings. Straight away they knew that it wasn't the constant brushing against the reeds that lined the pond; the motion was far too small and gentle for that. So with interest piqued, Loren rolled over once more before beady eyes were able to blink up at the blurred figures standing over them.

From the colour of their clothes, they were able to ascertain that they were in fact members of Destiny's Children—that particular colour was hard to miss even beneath the murky water as they were. Creeping closer until only a slim film of water separated them, Loren was able to see that the figures were in fact two young boys—teens, if they'd had to guess (although the strangers seemed to act more like young children; likely a byproduct of the cult)—who appeared rather familiar in a way he couldn't quite describe. The loralite knew that as a human, Theodore was much less receptive to holding onto information—something which irked them to no end—but even they seemed to be having difficulty recounting why these two children rang a bell.

Much like when Theodore had reencountered both of his Uncles Diego and Five earlier in the week, Loren just _knew_ they knew these two boys, but they still didn't know _how,_ just that they did and it irked them. Rising further out of the water, Loren rose far enough that they were able to stuff their large muzzle between the two boys in an effort find out more about them. In front sat the younger of the two; a happy blonde with elvish-like features that could almost have been considered Mogadorian if not for the lack of gills and shiny loralite pendant hanging from his neck. He appeared to have been the one who had been petting him.

In turn, the elder child (likely closer to his mid-teens than his friend) bore curly ginger ringlets much like Theodore, but with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce his soul. _"See_ , Yugi?" The blonde exclaimed happily as water droplets were snorted onto the two. "I _told_ you it was him!"

"This doesn't prove anything, Kiran" Yugi replied stubbornly, crossing his arms in defiance as his eyes roved over the blue serpent before them.

"I'm telling you! He's Garde! He's gotta be! That's loralite! I'd know it anywhere!"

"So what if it's loralite? That doesn't mean it's the brat—or any of the others for that matter. We're stuck here remember? _Alone"_

"It's him" Kiran replied determinedly, "I _know_ it is"

"That's what you said about the milkman and the nanny" Yugi sighed, shifting in place as Loren's head flopped onto the bank, content for Kiran to continue to scratch at their scales.

"Well, that was different!"

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Because—they—this—look! These scales _are_ loralite! Which _means_ that he's Garde, which _means_ he's one of us!"

"I'm not doing this again, Kiran" Yugi shook his head despairingly at the younger teen and made to walk away when he called back over his shoulder one last time. "And even _if_ he is Garde, how do you know he's not from the original Garde? How do you know he's even from School?"

At the mention of the horrid organisation in question, Loren's head snapped up towards the retreating ginger with sudden urgency. _They were at the School? Is that how we know them?_

"See, Yugi?!" Kiran cheered at the reaction, "See? He reacted to that bit! He is! He is!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves" Yugi scowled, turning back to face the now tense serpent. "You gonna change back or are we gonna keep talking to a snake?"

 _"Rude lil' dorvak, innit he?"_ Loren mused as they turned to watch the teen.

 _Like you're any better!_ Theodore replied in the back of their shared mind space as their two front legs came to grip onto the bank in front of him.

"Oh look! Now you scared him!" Kiran scolded the ginger as Loren moved back to reposition themselves.

"Him? Yeah right!" Yugi scoffed with a roll of his eyes as Kiran scrunched up his shirt sleeve to show Loren what was imprinted there.

Just below his wrist sat four little numbers hurriedly printed there on caramel-coloured skin like it was more of an after thought, and a single circular scar sat tucked into the crook of his elbow. A scar, mind you, that matched perfectly with the pendent he wore around his neck. Not only was Kiran of the same House as Theodore, it turned out that he had been at the School as well.

"See?" Kiran nudged the limb closer to Loren. "We're friends—we're Garde too. Yu—Yugi, come show 'im yours!"

"What? _No!"_ Yugi refused, still eyeing up Loren's serpentine form like they would attack at any minute.

"Yu, _c'me on!_ How can he trust us, if we don't show him we trust him?"

"Cause I _don't"_

"Yu! _Pleeeeeeeease?"_

"Quit it with the eyes, that won't work"

_"Pretty pleeeeeeeeease?"_

"Quit whining! You're aren't five anymore!"

_"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?"_

"—Oh, FINE! Fine! As long as you'll shut _up,_ you hirto!"

"Love you too, Yu!" Kiran replied with a shit-eating grin as Yugi angrily began to haul his shirt over his head, muttering all the while.

Once free of the tent-like t-shirt, Yugi turned to face Loren with a put-upon pout with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Peering close, Loren was able to discern the familiar House mark engraved onto his sternum as Kiran turned on his sulking friend once more. _"And_ you're cattle number, Yu!" Kiran nagged.

"Ugh!" Yugi rolled his eyes as he sulkily unfolded his arms and shoved his left one up towards the ophiomormous Garde. There imprinted upon the wrist, much like Theodore and Kiran was four little numbers hastily burnt onto his almond-coloured flesh. "Happy?" Yugi groused as he turned to pull his shirt back on.

"Yes. Very much" Kiran grinned as he scratched at Loren's muzzle, turning back to their fellow Garde and Student. "See friend? You can trust us! We're just like you!"

Loren paused for a moment, their beady eyes flittered back and forth between the sulking ginger and the grinning blonde. A beat of silence passed between the three as Theodore spoke up in the back on their shared mindscape. _We should do it._ Theodore suggested. _We should show them who we are._

 _"Those marks could be fake"_ Loren replied. _"Or they could be traitors to the cause!"_

_To the cause? You sound like some kind of shounen protagonist!_

_"I do not! I'm merely stating that they could be in league with the Mogadorians!"_

_Oh, you are, are you?_

_"I am!"_

_Well, we won't know if you don't let go!_ Theodore pushed back against Loren's hold on the reins. _They could be the ones that sent that message!_

_"Or they could be trying to kill us!"_

_So we'll eat them if they are! You're just being a big baby over nothing!_

_"That 'nothing' is what has kept us alive!"_

_Loren. Let go._

_"Make me"_

_…Fine._

* * *

The click of scales sliding against each other as Theodore forcefully shoved Loren into the back of their mindscape with a wince were satisfying to watch even as the majority of the loralite was sucked back beneath his skin like quills. Using the neighbouring reeds to haul himself out of the water, Theodore took a moment to shake out the water in his ears and slick back the curls plastered to his forehead before turning to the blushing tween at his feet with a questioning looking his eyes, mindless of his state of dress—or lack thereof.

"Put some pants on, ya dorvak!" Yugi grumbled, flushing slightly at the sight of Theodore standing on the pond's edge in translucent boxers, wet from transforming in the pond; as he chucked the discarded pants at blinked dumbly at the denim suddenly blocking his vision before pulling the article of clothing from his face and quietly exchanging the wet boxers for the dry denim. "2419?" Yugi read aloud, eyes trailing over the matching handwriting printed on Theodore's wrist as the (physically) older Garde pulled his clothes back on.

"Eh, eh! That's the Frija House! You're in our House!" Kiran cheered, jumping to his feet when he noticed the House mark printed between Theodore's shoulder blades. "I knew it! I knew you were one of us!"

Theodore had barely shoved his arms into the cardigan sleeves before a pair of smaller arms wrapped themselves around his waist and a face was shoved into his back. "I knew it!" Kiran mumbled happily into his back, voice muffled by the scratchy wool the younger Garde had nestled into. "I knew you were one of us!"

"2109?" Theodore muttered as he awkwardly wriggled around in Kiran's grip to face Yugi who still stood across from them; his eyes trailing over the numbers hidden beneath aqua material. "9040?"

"That's right" Yugi grunted in agreement, his narrowed eyes locked on the pair before him as if he was waiting for any signal that Theodore would harm the small boy suddenly attached to him.

"How—how did you get here?" Theodore asked, rolling the question around in his mind before eventually spitting it out.

"6493 brought us here"

"Barbara?" Theodore's brows furrowed in puzzlement as hope pricked at his heart. The Theron girl had been a good friend—or as close to a friend that Theodore had had in that place—who had had the innate ability to rip open slips in time and space. It was rather similar to Uncle Five's power, only Barbara's Legacy bore a lot less fanfare, and a lot more jumping off of high perches. "Where is she? Is she here too?"

"Um…" Yugi resolutely stared at Kiran still locked around Theodore's waist, seemingly unable to keep eye contact with the older boy even as Theodore laid a gentle hand on the boy's head, fiddling with the soft tufts of hair splayed about.

"What—what happened?" Theodore pushed.

"6493…" Yugi shifted on his feet as he tried to put the right words together. "She got…sick"

"Sick?"

"She slept for a _loooooong_ time" Kiran added, his voice muffled reply no longer cheerful and Theodore felt his stomach drop to his feet.

"O-oh?"

"6493…she's—she's—"

"—She's dead, isn't she?" Theodore ended with a heavy heart.

"The jump took too much out of her" Yugi explained, shoving his hands into his pockets as Theodore turned away, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes moreso from the whiplash at the notion that an old friend had since passed without his knowledge than her actual death itself.

"We—we left a message for everyone" Kiran pulled back far enough to peer up at Theodore, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen upon the trio. "Did you see it?"

"Uh, yeah—yeah, I did" Theodore nodded, blinking rapidly against the tears.

"That's how you found us, right?"

"Uh, y-yeah"

"Kir—Kiran, let 'im go" Yugi shuffled forward and quietly tugged on the back of Kiran's shirt, trying to dislodge the young teen from around Theodore's waist to little avail.

"…H-how" Theodore swallowed thickly around the lump in the back of his throat. "How long has it been for you guys? Since the escape, I mean"

"About two or three years. Yourself?"

"Um…" It took Theodore a minute or two to calculate the years since he'd last been in Arizona; something that was admittedly a little difficult with all the time skips and jumps. "About thirteen years, I think?"

"Th-thirteen?!"

"Wow, you're _old!"_ Kiran pulled back to look up at the scaly Garde with wide eyes.

"Thanks" Theodore deadpanned.

"Thirteen years?!" Yugi demanded as if he couldn't quite believe it. "And the Mogs haven't taken you in all that time?!"

"Oh no, they've tried" Theodore refuted, glazed eyes drifting off to the side as he remembered his previous encounters with the aliens in question. "They've certainly tried"

"And you defeated all of them?" Kiran loosened his grip just enough to be able to talk without inhaling wool.

"With some help"

"Help?" Yugi puzzled.

"Uh, I ran into a Loric Garde"

"A Student?"

"No, just a Garde"

"Huh"

* * *

At some point the trio had relocated to one of the main orchards lining the garden, this particular one housing plum trees. Situated in one of said trees happily munching on the violet fruit, juice dripping down their chins and staining their clothes much to Kiran's delight.

"Theo! Nn! Theo!" Uncle Klaus' voice drifted on the breeze as he hurried closer.

"Is that Mr Klaus?" Kiran puzzled, leaning slightly out of the tree to get a better look.

"It sounds like it" Yugi agreed, watching Kiran with eagle eyes, "Wonder what he wants?"

"Uncle Klaus?" Theodore peered out through the violet fruit alongside the other two Garde who turned to face the approaching man. With one hand gripping tight to the branch in which Kiran currently sat perched on, Theodore leant out of the tree to better see. "What's going on?"

"Theo!" Uncle Klaus chirped, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them about as he ran forward like a headless chicken.

"Uncle Klaus? Are you okay?" The Garde shared a puzzled look between them as the hippie man came to a stop at the base of the tree.

"I'm not Klaus!" Uncle Klaus happily chirped in a manner that certainly didn't belong to his necromancer uncle.

"What?"

"It's me! Ben!"

"Uncle…Ben?" His head tilted in question as he noted the buzzing that usually surrounded his Uncle Klaus had muffled slightly. The supposed possession would make sense. Theodore easily scrambled further down the tree until he was sitting in front of the elder man with his legs locked around the thin branch being the only thing keeping him in place. "Aren't you dead?"

"Well, yes—"

"—Maybe he's possessed!" Kiran called out from the canopy above them. "Remember, Nash could something similar!"

"Yeah, but his were more like puppets!" Theodore leant back as he called back up to the other two. "And he never wore people like suits"

"It's less like a suit and more like a Russian nesting doll situation" Yugi mused, pushing aside a stray branch in order to investigate the (not) cult leader further.

"Look! It doesn't matter!" Uncle Bean impatiently cut through their musings. "We have to go! Now! Five found a way back!"

"Really?" Theodore perked up, eyes darting back towards his fellow Garde where gleaming eyes of hope stared back. "We can all go back?"

"Yeah" Uncle Ben nodded, "But we have to—wait! What do you mean 'all?"

"Kiran and Yugi are from our time too" Theodore nodded up towards the two teens whose eyes gleamed down from the canopy almost predatorily. "Or well, they would be if they'd stayed there"

"Wha—?" Uncle Ben blinked up dumbly at them.

"We grew up together" Theodore shrugged half-heartily, "At least before—"

"—Before we escaped" Yugi deadpanned.

"Uh, yeah…"

"Escape?" Uncle Ben's brows knotted in puzzlement.

"We, uh, left about, eh…2014" Kiran shrugged as if it were no big deal, despite clearly being the opposite.

"Tuesday 24th January 2014" Yugi amended in a deadpan, easily recalling the date in which their freedom had _finally_ come.

"Yeah, that" Theodore agreed, trying to hide the wince that accompanied the memory. Kiran and Yugi reacted similarly, in their own way. "Do you think there's room for two more?"

"Uh…" Uncle Ben's gaze roved over the three sitting in the plum tree, eagerly awaiting his response. "We—we—you—I—uh, w-we need to meet up at the alley behind Elliot's in 30 minutes…"

"Cool, we'll meet you there"

"Right…" Uncle Ben nodded before he retracted his steps, sparing only a few glances back at the plum trees in which the three boys remained perched.

"So…" Yugi drawled, pulling Theodore's attention back to him. "That's your uncle? The cult leader?"

"Both of them apparently" Theodore shrugged nonchalantly.

"Ha! It's like a sale at Macy's!" Kiran giggled, before his tone took on a cartoonic salesman tone. _"Buy one, get one free!"_


	22. School's Out, Scream & Shout!

**_Tuesday 24 January 2014_ **

Piercing sirens wailed and children screamed in terror. The smell of something metallic drifted on the air—it was a mixture of the spilt blood and crumbling structures—and all ambient sounds had blurred together into a cacophony of noise. Hundreds of tiny feet thundered against the dusty ground, sending clouds of red flying into the air and the rustling of their oversized colour-coded jumpsuits as they made their grand escape. At 10 years old, Kiran was one of the many children to escape from the clutches of the Ragnor-Ra Mogadorians. Panic and fear settled in the air like a thick fog, choking at everyone with twisting tendrils that reached deep into their souls.

Sunlight—true and proper light—bared down on the children, blinding several as they stepped out of the dark and dim halls of the penitentiary that was the School. This blasted, horrifying, terrible place in which they had been kept captive for most of his brief childhood. Blinking rapidly at the sudden change in light, Kiran was only able to start moving again when a delicate hand wrapped itself around his wrist, tugging him forward. His gaze jerked from the infinite expanse of red in front of him to the girl in front of him; her dreadlocks falling out of their hastily tied ponytail and green jumpsuit crackled as she moved, sounding like the crack of whip breaking though the blood rushing through his ears.

He knew that she was trying to tell him something—he can see her lips moving, can feel her tugging him along over his stumbling feet towards the boundary line, but nothing seems to compute. It's just not filtering through. It's not until his feet are suddenly lifted from the ground as he's tossed over someone's shoulder like a sack of grain and bodily moved towards the boundary line. The ginger curls brushing at his nose and the blue material rustling beneath his fingers let him know that it was Yugi who had picked him up. He could hear the ginger talking—could hear him commanding the Theron girl to get them out of there…or at least that's what Kiran thought his friend was saying, it was hard to tell with the blood ringing in his ears. Could they really do this? Could they really get out of School?

And then the gunfire began to rain down. Red bolts of light fired in every direction, downing children without care or mercy. The chips in their napes song in symphony with the encompassing electric fence that ran the length of the boundary line. Kiran wasn't sure who it was that had been able to hack into the chips in their necks, turning them off long enough for the children to fight back against the captors and escape. He kind of remembered one of the Ordin kids mentioning something about a blonde woman in a vintage dress with pistol and pipe in hand; but the kid _had_ just returned from the Headmaster's office and had been rocking back and forth singing his ramblings. Kiran wasn't sure why that note had remained in his memory.

The electric fence that they raced towards buzzed like a thousand horse flies, standing tall and towering over them just as it had done all their captivity. But it was no match for the Helwyn kid at the front of the pack who ripped through buzzing barbed wire like it was tissue paper; their rage-fuelled telekinetic Legacy easily overpowered the boundary line, almost blowing it away.

The crowd soon pushed the trio forward as they spilt out onto the hot red sand. The few who can, raced out into the harsh landscape that surrounded the School, uncaring for logic or sensibility, only caring about their own survival. Kiran felt panic clog at his throat when the whirring sounds of a chopper sounded above them and the gunfire increased from a different angle as the Mogadorians sounded their counter-attack. He could only watch as bolts of red rained down on the fleeing children—on his friends—with a sense of mind-boggling fear and helplessness, even as Yugi and the Theron girl pounded over the loose sand as fast they possibly could.

Kiran could only watch as the School grew further and further distant on the horizon as the trio journeyed further away, their once traumatising jail almost a mirage and still they continued on. It wasn't until the feeling of something tugging at a point just beyond this navel, until an unidentified feeling of nausea roiled through him and Yugi leapt from the dusty outcropping, that Kiran knew at least they would be okay. That is if the Theron girl could get them out of there in one piece.

* * *

Kiran and Yugi seemed to spend their whole lives walking up and down the grubby cobblestone road, hauling satchels and rucksacks of pilfered food and clothes after them as despairing adults watched on with loathsome glares. They were only ever able to tell time by the number of tallies carved into the wall of their little apartment (some abandoned building they'd been squatting in that most of the locals swore up and down was haunted) and the ever-changing fashion trends that flowed around them. From the open-toed sandals of leather Birkenstocks to the many layers of denim.

"Do you, uh, think that 6493 would like the daisies or the buttercups?" Kiran peered up at Yugi from beneath long lashes as he knelt before the pile of stones that acted as the tombstone for the Theron girl's grave. In his hands the straggly bunches of flowers in questions had begun to winter slightly.

"It doesn't matter, Kira" Yugi scowled, narrowed eyes searching the misty moors for any signs of life, least the Mogadorian hunting party showed up again. "She's dead"

"That doesn't mean we can just forget her!" Kiran retorted, resolutely turning back to the grave before deciding to nestle both the handpicked daisies and the buttercups between the cracks in the stone pile, as if they had been growing there the whole time.

The sound of mud squelching underfoot and the following hissed curse as the person's shoes dirtied with each step was what caught their attention; the noise easily breaking through the quiet morning that enveloped the old Church cemetery where the pair had secretly buried their friend some months previous. Reacting quickly, Yugi spun around and pointed his open palms towards the approaching person, intent on using his Legacies if deemed necessary even as the person came into view.

Peering around the legs of his friend, Kiran locked gazes with an elegantly dressed woman who seemed to melt from the fog like a ghost. The tween wasn't sure if he was more scared of the woman or the ghostly spirit she appeared to be despite the earthen attire she wore. Mossy green rockabilly dress, black gloves, black heels, black fascinator hat with poofy emerald feather and black briefcase. She looked more like the Old Ladies Society that brunched together at the local bistro and bitched about 'todays youths' and other such nonsense.

The woman tipped her hat towards the pair as their own gazes roved over her as she calmly perched herself on a nearby tombstone. "Who are the hell are you?!" Yugi demanded, narrowed eyes following her every move.

"I'm here to help" The woman replied as she plucked a pipe from the depths of her pockets and calmly lit the end, a trail of smoke falling from her lips and melting into the landscape around them.

"Tell me, why shouldn't I tear you apart?" Yugi threatened, palms still splayed towards her.

"Be~cause if you did, you wouldn't hear about the offer I'm about to make you" She sang as Kiran rocked to his feet and came to stand behind Yugi, curiosity burning in his eyes. "Which would be rather tragic given your current…situation"

The woman was close enough that she didn't have to shout, but still a comfortable enough distance away that the two Garde wouldn't feel threatened despite the cunning gleam in her eyes. Yugi lowered his hands slightly, interested piqued at what the strange smoking woman offered them. "I work for an organisation called the Temps Commission" The woman began, "We are tasked with the preservation of the time continuum through manipulation and removals"

Kiran watched as the woman's eyes trailed over the pair of them garbed in raggedy oversized clothes, over Kiran's curious eyes and settled on 6493's grave for a moment longer before returning to Yugi, whom she looked dead in the eyes.

"I don't understand…" Yugi trailed off.

"Sometimes certain people…make choices that alter time—free will, don't get me started" She brushed off with a roll of her eyes. "When that happens we dispatch one of our agents to…eliminate the threat"

At that, Yugi immediately retrained his hands on the woman languishing in front of them without a care in the world. "Oh! No, no, no!" The woman chuckled as if Yugi had done something funny. "You misunderstand me! You're not targets, you're recruits. I've come to offer you jobs, Kiran & Yugi. We've had our eye on you for quite some time and we think the both of you have a _lot_ of potential. You're story's become quite the tale back at headquarters—that and your special abilities that allow you to struggle through such hardships"

"…You're—you're saying we—we could actually leave here?" Yugi stammered, eyes snapping quickly over to Kiran who stood just beyond his shoulder. "We could go somewhere _without_ the Mogs?"

"in return for five years of service, of course. Once your contract ist done, you can retire to any time and place of your choosing—with a pension plan to boot!"

 _"Any_ place? _Any_ time" Kiran piped up for the first time since the conversation had began. "Yu, we could go back to Lorien! We could go _home!"_

"Home…" Yugi trailed off as his hands finally dropped back to hang limply at his sides; eyes glazing over as memories of their fallen motherland came to mind.

"So…" The woman blew out a ring of smoke, "Do we have an agreement?"

* * *

**_21 November 1963_ **

Several years had passed since their first induction into the Temps Commission and many hours of missions and training had passed since then. Gone were the two weak children floundering through fields and squirrelling away stolen items they'd plucked from store shelves. Instead, they proudly sat on the edges of the Destiny's Children property, staring despondently at the aqua embroidered bohemian-styled clothes that they bore instead of the uniform suits that they were used to. From their perch on the towering garden fence, the pair could see the edges of the multicoloured party bus from where it was parked in the driveway—a major juxtaposition against the elegance of the stone mansion claimed by one Klaus Hargreeves and his cult.

Destiny's Children had returned to Dallas some days previous, just in time for the seconding coming of the Apocalypse. The cult, headed by Hargreeves necromancer was just air headed enough that the pair of teens had been able to slip into the throngs of cult members without much hassle—although most of them were off their tits on whatever they could get their hands on anyway. Rumblings of The Swedes' battle with the Hargreeves had become a sensational story back at headquarters, but that wasn't why they were here.

Kiran spared a glance towards Yugi who sat next to him staring up at the mansion with a scowl permanently planted on his face and arms crossed tight across his chest as their latest mission whirled around in their brains. Never in a million years would Kiran have ever expected to off one of their own—maybe if they had been a traitor or something of the same calibre, but nothing like this, never like this. Unfortunately it seemed that Theodore J. Hargreeves had more than fiddled with the timeline; something for which the Commission was greatly displeased with and so he had to go. Nevermind the pair of Loric Garde were likely in the same situation; the only difference being their training and backing of the Handler. She sure did love her toys.

Turning his attention back to the small speaker that sat between the two, Kiran listened in as Klaus Hargreeves spoke with Theodore and presumably a (deceased) Ben Hargreeves (if the conversation was anything to go by). For the most part, the conversations hadn't really revealed much—nothing about the coming Apocalypse nor about Theodore's plans. Most of it was just drunken ramblings about possession, buzzing ghosts and some chick named Jill.

Yugi slapped away his hands as they fiddled with the dials on the speaker, just wanting to ease the boredom more than anything else. Kiran wrapped his hands around his legs and turned away with a pout as his thoughts turned once again to where they had stashed their briefcase. In a house full of drug-loving hippies, they'd have better luck just leaving it out in broad daylight that tucking it into some dusty air vent for the time being. With that in mind, they had disguised it as some kind gaudy piece of artwork; of course it was easily outclassed by the other ghoulish pieces of artwork scattered about the mansion—most of them sexual in some weird way. "There he goes" Yugi muttered, his voice breaking through Kiran's thoughts and pulled his attention over to the retreating brunette currently making his way through the gardens.

"Well, then" Kiran hopped to his feet after scooping up and pocketing the speaker. "Let's go"


	23. The Plans of Mice & Men

Trundling through the streets of western Dallas, Yugi walked roadside with Theodore in the middle and Kiran on the other end, caging the Human Garde between the two as they tried to delay him from returning to 2019 and in turn eradicate him from the timeline, no matter their opinions on the matter. Yugi knew that Kiran was taking this mission much harder than the others, if only because their target was a Garde—a Human Garde from the School & their House—but Garde nonetheless.

But it had taken them _this_ long to squirrel the youngest Hargreeves out from the protective circle his family offered—first by Reginald Hargreeves, and then later by the others. Of course, he could've been taken out during the first five years he had been in Dallas alone, but those on the Infinite Switchboard had seen a path where Theodore had offed himself. Of course, that _hadn't_ happened and now here they were, walking side-by-side with their target in broad daylight with an ever dwindling window and Mogs on their asses. Yugi just hoped that the Handler was far more interested in the job The Swedes were supposed to be doing, instead of their own.

Currently, Kiran was nattering to Theodore about…something. Honestly, the young teen could talk about anything and nothing at all, a talent which was all his own. If he didn't know any better, he would almost say that it was one of his Legacies, and what a shit one that would be! Talking someone's ear off? If that were him, he'd probably cut out his tongue or something stupid like that…but then again, there was that stupid healing factor that would likely get in the way. Regrowing it would be a pain in the ass…or head.

Tuning back into the conversation for a moment when Kiran addressed him, sparkling eyes staring up at him with such admiration that it made his heart pound. For the past however many years the two had been together, Yugi had looked after the younger boy who had weeded his way beneath his skin and into his heart like a parasite; one that just never left. Although he would never admit it, the ginger often saw the younger boy as something akin to a brother or a younger sibling and would do anything— _anything—_ to protect him. He'd scowl the whole way through it, but he'd do it.

Yugi grunted (whether in agreement or refusal, he didn't know) and that seemed to be enough for Kiran to continue where he left off, disappearing off on another tangent, leaving Yugi to his thoughts once more. By this point, the sun had sunken low across the horizon, painting the sky a molten red and absently reminded him of that warning about shepherd's and rain. Although the one about the number of crows was likely more accurate than one about weather predictions. What was it again? _'One for sorrow…Seven for a secret never to be told…and Ten for a bird you must not miss'_ Yeah, that was more accurate.

* * *

_"…As you wind through the streets at the fabled bazaars,_

_With the cardamom-cluttered stalls,_

_You can smell every spice, while you haggle the price_

_Of the silks and satin shawls…"_

Kiran sang at the top of his voice and danced wildly in the open air along to the music. The song had been something that he'd remembered one of the older boys singing back at School when the Teachers had been in a good mood—one that he'd often beg to hear. At some point the trio had claimed the grass of a nearby park as their sanctuary for the evening as they (read: Kiran and Theodore) chatted about this and that; slowly dwindling down the hours and hoping that if they kept the Human Garde occupied for long enough then he'd completely forget about the planned meet-up with his family.

_"…Loric nights, like Loric days,_

_More often than not, are hotter than hot_

_In a lot of good ways!_

_Loric nights, like Loric dreams,_

_This mystical land of magic and grandeur_

_Is more than is seems…"_

Lying perpendicular to a wildly dancing Kiran on the wooden park bench, slightly damp from the several mysterious stains left there (besides the several splotches of bird poop), the teen paid no attention to his surroundings. Senses either dulled by the hard drink loosely hanging in his hand or the creeping night or even the hyper-focus he had on their target who currently lay spread-eagled amongst the daises and staring up at the red sky with the look of a stoned hippie—whatever it was, would forever haunt him as the next few moments unfolded.

_"…There's a road that may lead you_

_To good or to greed through the power your wishing commands_

_Let the darkness unfold or find fortunes untold_

_Well, your destiny lies in your hands…"_

It wouldn't be until later—much, _much_ later—that Yugi would see the irony in the song Kiran sang with such abandon. But it had been nice to see him acting like that—like the child he was, or was supposed to be. He hadn't really had a childhood, but Kiran's was still going on and he deserved to enjoy it. That was why the older boy often took the lead on the more gory missions (which, let's be honest, were most of them), leaving the boy in charge of research, often amping up the importance of the skill than was likely needed. But Kiran was just a kid and he deserved to enjoy that.

_"…Only one may enter here, one whose worth lies far within:_

_A diamond in the rough!_

_Loric nights, like Loric days_

_They seem to excite, take off & take flight_

_To shock and amaze!_

_Loric nights, 'neath Loric moons_

_A fool off his guard could fall & fall hard,_

_Out there on the dunes…"_

Yugi hadn't even seen them coming. Hadn't heard a peep, hadn't even scented sweat and the only reason he had likely noticed anything was wrong was when Kiran—sweet, little Kiran—had trailed off, his wild dance coming to a stop as he turned to face his longtime friend. One minute he'd been dancing & singing, and the next he was hunched over and clutching to his bleeding stomach. "Y-Yu?" Kiran stuttered, hands hovering over the weeping wound like that would stop it from furiously bleeding. "I—I don't feel so good"

"KIRAN!" Yugi cried as he shot to his feet, catching the boy just as his knees gave out and he hit the floor. There was no exit wound but the bullet had easily torn through his flesh like it had been nothing, the edges of the entry wound singed from the heat of it. Tears welled up in his eyes as he cradled the younger boy to him, cursing his luck and the stupidity of leaving his chest back at headquarters. "It's—it's okay" He denied even as the blood continued to pool and tears seeped from the corners of Kiran's usually bubbly eyes. "You're okay, you're okay"

Blood rushed through his ringing ears and his heart felt like it had jumped into his throat as his hands clenched tightly to the stupidly embroidered shirt that had brought so many odd and disapproving stares from passerby that afternoon. Had it really been only a couple of hours ago? Had Kiran really only _just_ been dancing like a mad child? Was there really nothing he could do? Nothing that their stupid Temps Commission training was useful for?

Tears blurred Yugi's vision as his breaths came in great big gulping heaves and the world around them became background noise. Absently, he noted that Theodore had shifted at some point; the large docile serpent they had met in the gardens was gone, instead replaced by a hungry beast that devoured the Mogadorians who shot at them with such ferocity that it would have likely made any normal person squirm.

"Y-Yu?" Kiran stammered, his voice sounding weak and frail.

"Y-yeah—I'm here, buddy, I'm here" Yugi sniffed as his own tears fell to mix with Kiran's.

"Y-Yu, I'm scared"

"It's—it's okay, you're okay, you're—you're gonna be okay" Yugi's voice began to crack as he tried to assuage the fears he had. Tightening his grip on the younger boy, he hauled him up far enough so that he could hug him close and bury his face in the top of golden blonde locks.

"P-pinky prom—promise?"

"P-p-pinky prom—promise"

"Y-yu, I'm _sooooo_ tired" Kiran whined, making the ginger smile weakly despite the gurgling that sounded deep in his throat, making the younger Garde cough around the blood gathering there. It wouldn't be long now. "Will…will you st-stay with m-me?"

"Forever a-and ever"

"Y-Yu…?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Will—will you sing a lul—lullaby? I can't…can't sleep without a…l-lullaby"

"…" Part of Yugi wanted to deny him this request, that selfish part of him that hoped if doing so would keep him alive longer.

"P-pretty— _hurk!—_ please?"

"O-okay" Yugi nodded into his hair, arms still locked tight around his chest in a hug that would crush bones if he weren't Loric.

_"My love, my love, my fearless love_

_I will not say goodbye_

_Sea may rise, sky may fall_

_My love will never die_

_Go on, go on, go bravely on_

_Into the blackest night_

_Hold my breath 'til your return_

_My love will never die…"_

Yugi no longer cared about the gross fluids that trickled from his body as he wept into his friend's—his _brother's—_ hair with much the same reckless abandon that Kiran had displayed not mere moments before. His grip remained tight on the young boy as he sang, his voice low and raspy, uncaring if he even sounded in tune. This was Kiran's last & final wish and he'd be damned if he didn't see it through, no matter how much it pained him.

_"…My heart, my heart, my drowning heart_

_Oh all the tears I've cried_

_Oh I may weep forevermore_

_My love will never die_

_My love, my love, my fearless love_

_I will not say goodbye_

_Sea may rise, sky may fall_

_My love will never die…"_

Yugi could feel Kiran slipping even as the song neared its end and still he tried to hold, tried to prolong his friend's existence even if it meant him hurting that little bit longer. If only so he could hold him that little bit longer. If only so he didn't have to say goodbye. He didn't want to—couldn't say goodbye to the annoying little dorvak that had crawled under his skin like a mite and nestled into his heart like some kind of bubbly parasite that held a penchant for digging through his things and demanding snuggles out of the perpetually scowling teen like he was his own living teddy bear. Yugi missed those times.

_"…My love, my love, my fearless love_

_I will not say goodbye_

_Sea may rise, sky may fall_

_My love will never die_

_Sea may rise, sky may fall_

_My love will never die_

_My love will never die"_

The last of the lyrics had barely left his lips when Kiran smiled brightly and relaxed into him, weak arms coming up to clutch at the arms holding him in an awkward returning hug. "G'night Y-Yu" Kiran smiled, happily as his eyes slid shut one last final time before his body began to crumble down into the loralite-speckled ash of their homeland.

"K-kiran!" Yugi desperately reached out for the twisting specks of ash as a gentle breeze drifted through the park, picking up the broken bodies of Mogadorian & Loric alike and taking them away to a better place. "Come—come back! Kiran! Please! I need you…"

The night twinkled on, the stars unforgiving in their judgement as the little Loric watched despairingly—tearfully as his only family and friend was taken away from him. Was taken out of his grasp when they were unable to fight back, unable to protect themselves. It wasn't fair! It was just supposed to be a simple mission, they weren't supposed to die—Kiran wasn't supposed to—to die. Where had it all gone so wrong?


	24. I See Me in You

**_22 November 1963_ **

Following the disaster that was the simple meet-up in the alley behind Commerce & Knox, Luther somehow found himself tripping after Five like a lost puppy as he sent a confused Klaus off to check on Allison. Without a plan of action and barely treading water, Number One felt a bit like he was drowning in this mess they had somehow found themselves winding up in. So much had happened in the last couple of years or so that he'd barely had time to properly process it all. He'd been summoned home for his father's death only to be bombarded by the nasty drama that came with his family.

Five had returned after 56 long years despairing over an approaching Apocalypse or two, Allison had divorced and remarried, Vanya had written a tell-all book before blowing up the moon & subsequently the world, Diego had broken down so far that he'd been admitted into a mental asylum (one in which he subsequently broke out of) and Klaus had sobered up & summoned Ben from beyond the veil before starting up his very own worldwide cult. And that didn't even take into account the mind-fuck that he himself had gone through with his own father's death—sorry, suicide—and betrayal, before the untimely doomsday and subsequent employment to one Jack Ruby. It had been an odd couple of years, that's for damn sure and the week was only getting worse.

The dappled morning light shone through the mustard curtains breaking Luther from his thoughts. Following Five's tantrum the day before where he had locked himself in one of the bedrooms and ranted to himself about idiotic siblings and menial tasks; the tall man had collapsed onto the couch in the living room with his long legs hanging over the end and a thin blanket barely covering him. Thunking noises from the kitchen and hissed curses falling from his brother's lips jolted Luther from his sleepy daze and pulled him from the couch. "Five? Five, wha—?" Luther called curiously, shuffling over to the kitchen as he ran a hand through his bed hair, only to stop and blink dumbly at the sight he had found.

Five was rummaging through the fridge like a racoon in the trash, practically climbing into the weathered appliance in his need to reach whatever it was. His tarnished Umbrella Academy blazer had been carelessly tossed over one of the kitchen chairs and the schoolboy assassin had retreated from the fridge with a large bottle of water in hand, which he was currently gulping down like a dying fish. "Are you okay?" Luther puzzled, brows furrowed in confusion.

"M gonna need to be hydrated" Five replied as he shoved the mostly empty water bottle back into the fridge amongst the salad dressings.

"Hydrated? And what's with the baby powder?" Luther's confusion continued on as he watched Five dump fistfuls of talcum powder down each of his sleeves as well as his pants; coughing only slightly at the small dust clouds that billowed out when he jumped up and down in an effort to readjust to the newly added substance.

"It'll help with the itching" Five replied as if it were obvious.

"What itching? There's itching? What the hell is going on here?" Bushy brows receded as realisation dawned on him. "You _do_ have a plan!"

"Well, it's a desperation move, but since our _braindead_ family are incapable of meeting a simple deadline" Five sighed, seemingly much calmer than the day before, but still just as nutty. "I've got no choice"

"No choice about what?" Luther demanded as he came to stand in the doorway dividing the two rooms.

"I have to find myself" Five glanced at the perfectly ticking pocketwatch that Dad had given to the boy, checking the time. "I just arrived in Dallas fifteen minutes ago"

"…Should I be worried about you?" Luther queried as he watched Five slip the blazer back on and moved out to the center of the living room where he fell into some warm-up stretches they'd done as kids.

"Luther, if you recall: I was sent to 1963 on a job by the Commission to make sure the President was assassinated"

 _"Ooh!_ So wait, you're _old_ self is out there!"

"Precisely!"

"What? Just walking around Dallas?"

"Walking around Dallas _with a briefcase that can get us back home"_

 _"Oh my God, Five!_ You're a genius—!"

"—However, there are _two_ significant problems with this plan" Five interjected sourly.

"Of course there is" Luther sighed dejectedly. "What are they?"

"Problem number one: I'm a trained assassin—arguably the most dangerous assassin in the space-time continuum. And if I know me, I'm not going to react kindly to bumping into myself" Five paced back and forth, swinging his arms about like a mad man and making Luther a little dizzy with his harried movements. "Problem number two—and this is the _real_ fly in the ointment here—You're not s'posed to exist in close proximity to yourself in the same timeline. The side effects can be disastrous"

"Side effects? What sort of side effects?"

"Well, according to the Commission Handbook, chapter 27, sub-section 3b: _The Seven Stages in Paradox Psychosis_ are: Stage 1) Denial, 2) Itching, 3) Extreme Thirst & Urination, 4) Excessive Gas, 5) Acute Paranoia, 6) Uncontrolled Perspiration and 7)…Homicidal Rage"

"Homicidal rage?" Luther repeated, eyebrows reaching for his hairline.

"Yeah"

"Geez, I don't know this…maybe isn't such a good idea"

"It's a Hail Mary! But what choice do we got, Luther?"

"Well, I dunno—you already seem kinda squirrelly, if I'm being honest"

"Look Luther, I'm gonna need you to help get through this one, alright?" Five suddenly rushed over to his taller brother, weaving through the stacks of magazines & newspaper clippings and gripped him by the forearms as of he wanted to physically shake him. "I—I need a spotter"

"Spotter?" Luther puzzled, confused over the term used. "What is that? Like…a wingman?"

"In case the Paradox Psychosis gets too severe, I need you to help me stay on task, alright? So, whatever happens, whatever I say…we _need_ to get that briefcase. Okay?"

"Okay…"

"Okay"

And with that Five strode off towards the front door like a man on a mission, leaving Luther to stare wide-eyed at the floorboards as he tried to process all of the information suddenly thrown at him. Concern for his brother warred with curiosity about what the Seven Stages would look like and relief over a possible plan to get back home; all his emotions whirling around inside like a tornado. "Luther! C'me on!" Five called over his shoulder when he glanced back at the top of the stairs to see that his taller brother hadn't moved an inch.

"Er—right!" Luther nodded, hastily following after Five more on some ingrained instinct to follow orders like a good little soldier, than anything else.

* * *

Of all the places to find Five Jr (or was it Sr?), an Irish Pub was not the first place that would've come to Luther's mind. Of course, given Five's recent penchant for day drinking, then it did make a little sense to the ape man. All dollied up for the President's arrival into Dallas, the pub bore several layers of American and Irish flags about the place, a lively Irish jig echoed throughout the place and there at the stained wooden counter sat a withered and weary Five Jr It was odd to say the least. "Well, there I am" Five Sr muttered nodding towards the elderly man nursing a pint with his large black briefcase planted neatly by his feet.

"Why don't we just grab the briefcase and run?" Luther pondered as both he and Five Sr peered around the pillar blocking their view.

"Luther" Five Sr began patronisingly, "I would _never_ let that happen. We're trained to guard these briefcases with _our lives"_

"Right"

"Plus, it's the inherent paradox where this get tricky. I'm endangering my existence just by being in the same room as myself"

"Huh—? What do you mean?"

"Luther, _do_ try to keep up! If old me doesn't travel back to 2019like he's _supposed_ to, the _whole thing_ unravels itself. I cease to exist. You got me?"

"…I get you" Luther nodded, still not quite getting it but getting a little ticked off at his brother's tone.

"So our best chance is talk with him—to _reason_ with him"

"Ah…"

"He'll understand, trust me" Five Sr sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Luther. "I know myself better than, uh…better than I know myself"

"You just itched your neck!" Luther exclaimed, catching the action immediately. "That's stage two of Paradox Psychosis!"

"No, I didn't" Five Sr childishly denied. "I _didn't_ itch my neck"

"Denial is stage one"

"I _am_ fine, _okay?_ Let's—let's just stay on task, shall we?"

"Wait—!" Luther's arm snapped out to pull Five Sr back before he could go any further.

 _"What?"_ Five Sr snapped.

"Maybe…maybe I should go first"

_"Why?"_

"You'll freak him out" Luther reasoned, before muttering under his breath. "I know _you're_ freaking _me_ out"

"What was that?"

"I mean—bumping into your own tiny doppelgänger? He'll lose his shit. Just let me break the ice"

"…Okay" Five Sr acquiesced, sparing a glance over at Five Jr with narrowed eyes.

"Okay" Luther nodded, clapping his large hands once before the two parted with a pair of deep sighs—one much heavier than the other.

Exhaling slowly, Luther pulled on his bodyguard persona that he'd developed over the last year under Jack Ruby and approached Five Jr (and wasn't that a weird thing to get his head around? The younger Five was an old man and the older Five was a young teen! Ha!). Practically hovering over the elderly man, Luther straightened his shoulders and tried to ignore the eyes on his back. "Five" Luther began, grabbing the elderly man's attention.

"What'd you call me, big man?" Five Jr drawled, rolling his eyes away from the crumpled newspaper laid before him.

"It's me" Luther continued rather patronisingly. "Number One?"

"Luther…" Five Jr finally sat up at that, body tense, one hand on the briefcase and eyes blown wide as he turned to face his taller brother. "How did you—?"

"—It's okay. Everything is fine—I can explain. But first, I need to introduce you to somebody. Just…promise me you won't freak out"

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Uh, just don't freak out. No freak-outs" Luther bared an awkward smile in an effort to ease any nerves. Not that it seemed to be working if Five Jr's unchanging reaction (sans his eyes that watched him like a caged animal). "Alright"

Turning just far enough to the side so that Five Sr could crawl out from behind his brother's hulking form, Luther lightly leant back against the bar and sat back to watch the odd interaction between the two Fives. If Five Jr had been shocked to see an older Luther, then it was nothing when compared to the reaction he had upon seeing his younger self. Particularly when Five Sr started talking. "Hey there, stranger" Five Sr murmured, still a little wary to be so close to his younger self.

Soon enough, the trio found themselves seated around one of the small wooden tables (or at least for Luther who had trouble stuffing himself into the tiny chairs), Luther couldn't help but think they looked like a rather odd trio. Three generations of Hargreeves sat rather amicably together—granted two of those three generations were the same person, but still—it seemed to be going much better than any of their usual family meals; something that was likely helped by the half empty pitcher of beer and basket of fries on the table.

"Well" Luther sighed with fake cheer, breaking the awkward silence as both Fives continued to glare at each other from across the table like hissing cats. "This is nice, isn't it? The three of us, together like this"

"No" Both Fives chorused before glaring harder at each other. Honestly, it was hard enough to deal with one Five, but two? Luther wasn't sure if he could do it, Apocalypse be damned.

"Somebody explain to me how it is I'm having a pint of Guinness with my younger self—" Five Jr demanded.

"—Older self, _actually"_ Five Sr replied, equal bits smug and bitter. "I'm you, just 14 days older"

"I have _pubic hair_ smarter than you! How's that possible?"

"I can explain: You see, one hour from now, on the grassy knoll before the President is killed, you break your contract with the Commission. I already know you're thinking about it. All those years in the Apocalypse, we _never_ stopped worrying about our family…Well, today you're going to something about it. Today you're going to time travel forward to 2019; however you're gonna screw up the jump and end up in this _twip_ of a body, trapped forever: _small, pubescent—"_

"—Okay!" Five Jr interjected, cutting off his elder counterpart with a squeaky fart. "Even _if_ I was to believe you, what am I supposed to do about it? Not jump?"

 _"No,_ no I need you to jump—if you don't jump, I cease to exist. What I need from you is to jump correctly"

"I'm listening"

"The first time through, I got the calculation wrong—that's how I ended up in this body. But _now,_ I know the _correct_ calculation"

"…What is it?"

"I'll be glad to tell you…in exchange for that briefcase you're holding under the table"

"Yeah, yeah, so you go back to 2019 as planned" Luther piped up, trying to imitate his brother but with little success. He just couldn't really let the whole 'leader' thing go, even now. "But this time with the right math—so you remain a full-grown man. In exchange, we get that briefcase you no longer need"

"Timeline restored" Five Sr barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at Luther's predictable nature. Five Jr held no such qualms. "Paradox resolved. Everyone goes on existing happily ever after"

"…That's quite a bit to take in" Five Jr finally uttered.

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think…I need to piss"

Slumping over in his seat, Luther felt like he could breathe again now that he only had to deal with one Five—whether or not it was the saner Five was still up for debate. Looking at his brother sat hunched over the table like a gremlin, Number One couldn't help but wonder just what was rattling around in that brain of his, or what kind of cockamamie plan he was going to come up with next. "Oh! Oh!" Luther gently pulled the napkin out from beneath his beer when he saw how Five's fringe was starting to stick to his forehead (even if he was far more interested in his counterpart's trip to the bathroom). "Well, besides the flop sweat" Luther patted at his brother's face with the napkin & drying up the sweat. "I think that went pretty well, am I right?"

"No—no, there's something…" Five Sr's mutters were full of paranoia now as he knocked away the helping hand. "…Something doesn't feel right about this"

"What—what do you mean?"

"I _don't_ trust him!"

"…But he's _you"_

_"Exactly"_


	25. When Monkeys Fly

Barely even five minutes later, Luther found himself being ushered towards the men's bathroom at the back of the bar by a paranoid Five Sr who was growing more and more squirrelly with each passing minute. Apologising to the siting patron he'd skirted around to get through the door, Luther made his way over to urinals on the back wall, clocking Five Jr at the sinks as he passed. "Yeah, that's a waste of time" Luther chuckled when he noticed Five Jr polishing the glass eyeball. "Trust me"

"Then why were you holding it when I found you dead in the Apocalypse?" He retorted, pocketing the eye.

"No idea. But the guy it belonged to didn't end the world. Vanya did"

"Timid little Vanya?"

"Yep. Is more powerful than _all_ of us put together" Luther continued as if he were talking about the weather. "Turns out, she was pissed about the way we treated her when we were kids, so she destroyed the moon and ended the world"

"Huh. Fair enough"

"Yeah, and that doesn't even take into account our alien nephew—" Luther sighed as he zipped his pants back up and made his way over to the sinks; only to be stopped by a calculating Five Jr.

"—This is perfect! We know exactly what's gonna happen!" Five Jr exclaimed, brushing over the latter half of Luther's admittance.

"Yeah, except it, uh, already did" Luther smiled.

"Don't think, just listen" Five Jr admonished. "Forget about the little jerk-off's plan. It's way too complicated. A _much_ better plan is for _us_ to travel to 2019—all we have to do is make nice with Vanya, stop her from destroying the world. Easy peasy"

"Uh…you'd have to get passed her son first" Luther rocked on his heels, recalling how his nephew had socked him the moment they had been reunited earlier in the week.

"Her son?" Five Jr puzzled. "The book didn't—"

"—She didn't put him in her book. 'Sides he's _very_ protective—makes Diego's thing with Mom look like child's play"

"Hmm…"

"And that doesn't even take into account the serial killer boyfriend…"

_"What?"_

"Admittedly, it wasn't a good choice on her part…but as it turns out he was only using her to get back at us—at the Umbrella Academy"

"Oh?"

"Didn't end well for him; kinda deserved it though" Luther shrugged, before turning back to the topic at hand. "But what about Five? I mean, you? I mean the uh, young you—?"

"—That's not me" Five Jr interjected stiffly, "That's a prepubescent photocopy that got botched in the time jump. Besides it's too later for him anyway"

"Too late?" Luther puzzled, eyes narrowing on the hand scratching at weathered skin. Cogs began to whir in his brain as he realised what Five Sr had said to be true—the Seven Stages had already begun.

"Paradox Psychosis! Best thing we can do is put him out of his misery"

"…What?" Luther felt his jaw slacken at the notion, "You're…you're saying to—to _kill_ him?"

"You're thinking about this all wrong—"

"—We're not killing anybody—"

"—No, look at me! I'm still Five & I'll still be alive. All we're doing is getting rid of a mutant doppelgänger. Amputating a vestigial nipple"

"Wait—!" Luther grabbed Five Jr before he could leave the bathroom with their only way home in hand. "Are you sure _you_ don't have Paradox Psychosis?"

"I've never felt better in my life"

"Oh, he's _definitely_ lying" Luther muttered as he watched the little vein on Five's neck twitch as he marched out of the door with a slick sheen of sweat shining on leathery skin. "Five needs to work on that"

Emerging back onto the main floor of the pub, Luther and Five Jr were met with Five Sr staring into his glass of Guinness like the bottom of his glass held all the answers in the world. Honestly, Luther was starting to worry about his brother, with the way he drank (both coffee and alcohol) it was highly likely that he believed that. "We good?" Five Sr sat back, eyeing up his counterpart like he was going to attack or retreat at any minute.

"We're good" Luther forced a smile as he stood between the two, shifting on his feet.

"You got a deal" Five Jr replied stiffly, hand gripped tight to the briefcase that the teen was eyeing up with hungry eyes. "We gotta hurry, Kennedy's en route—less than an hour until showtime"

"Why're you so anxious to get going all of a sudden?" Five Sr accused as he got to his feet.

"Relax. You're getting paranoid"

"Oh! Am I?" The not-so-subtle scratches and echoing farts on either side of the table seemed to invalidate their statements and Luther's eyes rolled towards the ceiling as he prayed for patience, suddenly feeling like he was watching two toddlers sizing each other up.

"Okay, let's roll!" Luther chirped, desperately wanting some fresh air if those two were going to be farting more frequently as the day went on. Five Jr followed closely on his heels, with Five Sr not too far behind.

* * *

"All right, just be cool 'til I finish the job on the grassy knoll" Five Jr coached Luther as the pair walked side-by-side across the little bridge on their way to the infamous grassy knoll. "We'll get the time match and I'll ice the squirt"

"I just wished there was another way, y'know?" Luther murmured, his mind wondering if this could be considered as suicide.

"There isn't. Look at him"

 _"What're you looking at?!"_ Five Sr's paranoid voice sounded from behind them.

"Look"

_"See something funny?!"_

"Worse case of Paradox Psychosis I've ever seen" Five Jr continued as Luther noted how much more squirrelly his brother had become with each passing moment. "Eh…what's wrong?"

"Well, I—I feel bad for him, y'know?" Luther glanced back again as Five Sr mouthed off to some old lady about minding her business. "He's just a little guy"

"Everybody's a little guy to you—"

 _"You wish you could pull off these shorts!"_ Five Sr's voice sounded again and Luther had to bite his inner cheek in order to not burst out laughing at that last comment.

"—You look like King Kong" Five Jr continued, making Luther wince at the reminder of his stage name. "And the Hitler Youth had a baby. Luther I—I don't have time for you to tuck and squeeze here. Can I count on you to keep him under control?"

"…Yeah, I'll do my best, yeah"

"All right"

Upon reaching the other end of the bridge, Luther exchanged the elderly Five for the teen Five with a put-upon upbeat chuckle, one he had long-since mastered during their days as the Umbrella Academy. It had been important to keep up appearances even as his family had disappeared one by one. "Hey brother, how're you doing?"

"He's gonna kill me, isn't he?" Five Sr guessed straight away.

"What?" Luther scoffed a laugh as the pair trundled down the steps. "What him? He's gonna kill you? Yeah right, that's—that's ridiculous"

"Y'know, you're a t _errible_ liar, Luther" _Oh like you can talk!_ "You're a worse liar than you are a spotter!"

"Okay! Whose fault is that? What good is having a spotter, if you won't even listen to him?"

"So you _admit_ to conspiring against me?"

"Do—do you admit that _you're_ suffering from Paradox Psychosis?"

"All I'm suffering from is the bracing clarity about you and your murderous intentions"

"Would you prefer the cannibalistic intentions of our nephew?"

"This has nothing to do with Theodore!"

"Look! It's not like Five's gonna 'kill you' kill you. he just wants to kill a, um, version of you"

"But _I_ am that version of me!"

"Hey, I don't love it either, but he's actually got a pretty good plan"

"What? The one where you guys off me and then jump to 2019 to save the world?" Five Sr snarked as he violently itched at himself.

"Yeah, wait—how did you know that?" Luther puzzled, watching his brother wig out.

 _"Because I'm him_ and that's _exactly_ what I would do if I were trying to _kill me!"_

"Okay, all I know is we've got one Five too many and you're the one acting like a maniac!"

"Maniac?" Five Sr suddenly turned on Luther with a rabid look in his eyes. "Luther you have seen _nothing!_ If you want maniac, I _will_ show you maniac!"

"…Okay, as your spotter, I think the best thing I can do for you right now is put you out of your misery!"

"Okay, Luther listen!" Five Sr suddenly spun on his heel and gripped Luther by the lapels, pulling him in close. "I know your feeble mind only responds to age and authority, so listen _very closely:_ Yet again, you are experiencing daddy issues"

Luther withheld a long-suffering sigh with much restraint as Five Sr went off on his patronisingly accurate lecture. Rolling his eyes towards the heavens once more, Luther did his best not to hit his brother, knowing that doing so would likely kill him. "…This time with your own brother, which honestly is making me a bit crazy. But remember this: I'm 14 days older than him, _I_ have seniority here. So it is _me_ you should be listening to, Luther, I'M THE DADDY, HERE!"

"How's it going?" Luther forced a chuckle as he dismissed the concerned looks from passersby before turning back to Five Sr who was still scratching at himself. It seemed the talcum powder had _not_ worked as he had hoped. "Five, please, you're being unseemly!" Luther frog-marched the teen after their counterpart. "Look at you!"

"I admit…there is a possibility that I may not be in my fully…right mind, right now" Five Sr acquiesced with much difficulty.

"Okay, good"

"But whatever _I've_ got, _he's_ got it too!"

"What?"

"Will you two quit grab-assing?" Five Jr snarkily interjected from in front, as the latter two Hargreeves moved to join him on the grassy knoll overlooking the street in which the President's car would be travelling later that day. It was almost a pity that it was such a beautiful day. "We're here"

Five Sr followed his counterpart's movements with narrowed eyes that tracked every tick, every scratch, every fart as if one wrong move would make him disappear in the blink of an eye. Of course, the slight blush decorating his own cheeks at the echoing flatulence from him was resolutely ignored even as Luther brought it up. "Flatulence, that's stage four" Luther pointed out, slightly worried about the frequency for which Five was passing gas and slightly disgusted at what could result from it.

"See?" Five Sr turned on Luther with a maniacally smug look in his eye, "What's your plan _now,_ bucko?" A smug look which ultimately dissipated when he farted again.

"Er…"

"That was just lunch, all right? Shut up"

* * *

 _"…Dallas-Fort worth area broadcast here to bring you a special description of the arrival of President John. F. Kennedy…"_ Prattled the vintage hand-held radio strapped to the fence post in which Five Jr knelt before, assembling his rifle.

"This is my favourite part!" Five Jr gushed as he screwed in another piece to the firearm before moving to polish the barrel and checking the feel of the weapon. "The calm before the storm"

 _"Look!"_ Five Sr whispered, his breathing harsh and tone manic. If Luther wasn't worried before, he was now. "The briefcase!"

"No! Don't!" Luther scolded his brother, trying to remind him of their mission. You won't be able to get there in time!"

 _"Of course_ I will" Five Sr replied smugly, huffing like an angry ox. "This is our _only_ chance!"

"Hey, uh, just remind me, what was the final stage of Paradox Psychosis?" Luther mused offhandedly.

"Homicidal rage"

 _"Right!"_ Number One smiled in recognition. A smile which incidentally dropped when the meaning of those words hit home. "That's great. Five, listen to me. I—"

"—Too late" Five Sr muttered under his breath, ignoring his 'spotter' before he began to sneak forward, hunched over and tip-toeing in order to grab the briefcase before his younger self would notice.

"No—no!" Luther spluttered softly. Five Sr had barely blinked over to the grassy knoll before Five Jr had exchanged places with him and trained the rifle on himself. "Oh _shit"_

"Bad idea, shit heel!" Five Jr snarled, staring down the barrel of the gun at his teen self, body tensed.

Quickly moving forward, Luther wasted no time in easily snatching the rifle from Five Jr's hands and turning on the two like a scolding parent. "Stop it! All right? The _both_ of you! Pull it together! Now Kennedy is gonna be coming around that corner any minute. Okay? So everyone, let's just take a deep breath—" He inhaled and exhaled in demonstration; an action which was shakily repeated by both Five's who had begun to pace and scratch furiously at themselves once more. "—Now we're _all_ family here, okay? So can we all just _try_ get along for a few more minutes?"

"…You want it?" Five Sr nodded towards Five Jr, the two of them sharing a patronising look as they seemed to settle on the same thought.

"Go ahead" Five Jr smirked.

"What's that?" Luther hummed, cocking his head like a puppy in question. He didn't have to wait long until Five Sr reared back his leg and nailed him in the crotch.

 _"Oooh! Shit!"_ Luther groaned painfully as he collapsed to his knees with his hands holding his suddenly bruised balls.

Tears sprang to his eyes as the pain erupted through him, blurring his vision and blocking his mind excluding only one thought: pain. Through his painful tears, Luther could only watch as the rapid and illuminating blue blinks of his brother(s) zipped around him. Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of teen Five catch elderly Five in a headlock or elderly Five right-hook teen Five, there was even times when he would come in between the two like a giant punching bag; but all the movements were so fast that he couldn't be sure (although his bruises would say otherwise). Luther wouldn't put it passed the time traveller to jump through little pockets of time in order to one-up himself, which of course meant the other version of himself thought the same thing and subsequently cancelled that action out.

"Getting…tired yet?" Five Jr panted.

"I can…do this…all day" Five Sr replied in much the same manner.

"Guys, this has to _stop"_ Luther reiterated as the pain had thankfully begun to recede enough for him to return to his feet.

"Eat shit, ape man!" Both Fives chorused before trying to teleport off again. Emphasis on the word: try. When both Fives tried to jump at each other, shrouded in the blue of time and space, they were ultimately repelled and tossed aside like rag dolls from their own attacks.

 _"Hey! Assholes!"_ Luther finally snapped, snatching the armed rifle from the ground and turning it on his panting brother(s). "I'm _done_ listening to you both! _I'm_ in charge now!"

"Now Luther! Shoot him!" Five Jr called from the ground.

"No! Luther, shoot _him!"_ Five Sr shot back as he rose to his feet and the rifle swung back and forth between the two.

"Shoot him!"

"No! Luther, shoot _him!"_

_"Luther shoot him!"_

"Luther…shoot him"

"Now Luther!"

"Luther…"

The utter betrayal gleaming in his brother's wide eyes pierced deep into Luther's soul, even as he trained the rifle on him. Out of the corner of his eyes Luther could see the elderly man preen smugly; chest puffed out and smirk planted firmly in place. Swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat, Luther tried to stall his shaky hands in order to not give away his plan. If he had a plan. _Did_ he have a plan? "Luther, please…"

"I'm sorry, buddy" Luther apologised. With his heart in his throat the blonde quickly spun on his heel and pistol-whipped Five Jr, knocking the wind out of him as he hit the pavement. No sooner had the old man hit the ground with a thud, did he turn on to the gobsmacked teen. "Now! Open the portal!"

"…Right!" Five Sr spun on his heel with gleaming eyes as Luther sprinted over to grab the black briefcase from where it had been nestled in the corner of the fence. It was odd looking at his past self through the whirling vortex of blue—at all of them really. He could see Vanya's curious gaze and Diego's stupid leather getup. Allison's curls bounced in the wind and if he turned just the right way he could see the glistening blue of Theodore's loralite glistening atop the satellite. Honestly, the amount of power that his brother was emitting was humbling to say the least; the most Luther could do was throw off a chandelier like its nothing, but here was his brother ripping through _time_ and _space._ Granted he did look and sound like he was constipated, but still, it was nothing short of amazing. Not that Luther would ever tell him that, there was no need to boost his already large ego.

 _"…They have stayed in the limousine"_ The radio prattled, catching Luther's attention even as he fought to stay upright with the portal rippling right in front of them. _"…But the President and the First Lady, the Vice President and Mrs Lyndon Johnson are all walking along the edge of this fence, shaking hands with the crowd. And they are being greeted by placards of varying emotional and uh, political feeling…"_

 _"Don't_ even think about it!" Luther snarled when movement out of the corner of his eye pulled him towards Five Jr slowly and sneakily getting to his feet. With the rifle trained on him once more, Five Jr was far more willing to listen to reason. Funny that.

"Into the vortex you go, asshole!" Five Sr snarled.

 _"Fine!"_ Five Jr snapped, wobbling to his feet. "But gimme the math! So I don't end up looking like Tiger beat over here"

"You stand next to the vortex and I'll tell ya! Go! Closer!"

"This is close enough!" Five Jr bargained when he was within reach of the portal, the whispers brushing at his suit like long forgotten smoke. "Now give it to me!"

"Eh" Luther nodded towards the teen when he glanced over for reassurance.

"…It was a typo!" Five Sr eventually spat out, his voice both equally smug and bitter at the same time.

"Typo?" Five Jr repeated in disbelief.

"We put the decimal in the wrong spot in our proof of the existence of a bound for the humber of limit cycles of planar polynomial vector fields of fixed degree" With the rifle still trained on the elderly man, Luther felt himself become lost in his brother's words. The probability map was much easier to understand than whatever nonsense he spouting now. "We wrote down 5.7, when it should be—"

"—0.57" Both Five's chorused.

"Son of a bitch!" Five Jr cursed as Five Sr threw his hands up in the air. "I _knew_ that didn't look right! All right…I guess this is it"

"This _is_ it" Five Sr readjusted his lapels as he stared himself down. "Go"

Everything was going so well. Five Jr was about to go through the portal to continue the time loop, they had the briefcase they needed to get back home and as an added bonus, the President had yet to be shot. That was until the fire extinguisher came flying through the portal. As Luther collapsed to the floor, leaving the briefcase unguarded and sending the rifle flying, he couldn't help but wonder how he had forgotten Klaus' little attempt at semi-heroism the last time around. Who knew that he'd be taken out by his brother's own stupidity? Glancing up through black dots dancing in front of his eyes and shaking off the aching bump now on his head, Luther noticed something else that just _had_ to go wrong. Were they cursed? It would explain a few things. "FIVE!" Luther called, pointing towards the portal as the two Fives scrabbled over the briefcase between them. "The portal! It's shrinking!"

Stumbling to his feet, Luther quickly moved towards the two and launched a strong kick towards the elderly man, sending him and the briefcase flying towards the ever-decreasing portal of blue. He hoped that Five Jr would make it in time. It was only once the briefcase bounced back at them and the elderly man disappeared with a crack that the ape man let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding. Blinking away the dizziness, Luther let a relieved smile spread across his lips as he exclaimed over the prattling radio, "We did it!"

"The briefcase, you idiot" Five snarked before stomping back over to the fence like a disgruntled cat drenched in water.

"What?" The smile instantly fell as Luther's gaze met only _half_ of the time travelling briefcase where it lay sparking and cracking with electricity. Broken & useless. Great.


	26. Does Swede Stain?

**_Meanwhile_ **

With Ben nagging endlessly in his ear, Klaus was _eventually_ able to find Allison's house again. It was a quaint little thing; a two-story gingerbread house that looked like it had stepped right out of the some vintage real estate magazine…but then again it _was_ 1963\. Brick-clad walls shrouded white wooden panelling and curtain-trimmed windows. It was nothing like the mansion in which he had taken up residence for the past few years, but it was sweet and nothing like what Allison had previously owned. But if Klaus' previous catch-up with his glamorous sister was anything to go by, then it sounded like the humble apple-pie life was much more her speed now…Not counting her involvement in spearheading the local race protest movements of course.

Admittedly it was a little harder to find the cottage in the dark, stumbling around under the vestiges of Ben's possession and that didn't even take into account his unfamiliarity with the area. Unlike Five or Diego, Klaus wasn't particularly good at good at memorising directions. But that's okay; that's why Ben was here: to nag and laugh him in the right direction like a shit Sat Nav. Honestly, he thought he'd done well enough, even with Ben's contest giggles and snickers whenever he tripped over hidden trash littered about the streets, his own gangly legs or the protruding curbs that bumped at his sandal-clad toes.

Eventually the gingerbread cottage came into view (after knocking on a few wrong doors of course) and Klaus found himself sauntering up the little brick steps to the front door on Luther's orders to play the dutiful brother to gather up their wayward family members for their final hurrah, even when he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep off the rest of the possession hangover. Allison was a big girl, she could handle herself—she'd done so on more than one occasion and he shuddered violently when the incident involving a pair of her cherry red heels came to mind. The incident in question had occurred only a few weeks after he'd tripped in Mom's heels down the stairs and had to have his jaw wired shut whilst it healed; but he'd been a persistent little shit— _"Had been?"—_ and gone in search of his a pair of his sister's to try again. Needless to say, the boys had quickly learnt what stealing her things would result in from then on. It still made him shudder, all these years later.

**_KNOCK KNOCK!_ **

It was Raymond 'Ray' Chestnut who ended up fearfully (and then confusedly) peering out through the sheer curtains covering the door's windows that night. Even if he was Allison's second husband, Klaus was still surprised that he'd stuck around this long. As her brother, Klaus knew how insufferable—how dramatic Allison could be, but it was nice to know that at least someone was toughing it out with her. And she seemed genuinely happy with him. "Hey, Ray-Ray" Klaus greeted languidly as the door was cracked open just enough for the other man to poke his head out. "I'm so sorry it's late, but, uh—"

"—Klaus, this is not a good time" Ray cut off as he tried to close the door on him; but no one ever said Klaus wasn't persistent. Almost to the point of being an annoyance—almost.

"Oh, I'm sorry—Allison! Hey!" Spotting his sister, the gangly man easily slid past Ray (despite his best efforts) and into the house where he embraced her, pulling her close as his calculating eyes quickly darted to the trail of blood splattered against her cheek. "I was _so_ worried about you! Thank God you're okay! What's uh—what's the matter?"

Pulling back, he gestured to the splatter on her cheek with worry swimming in his eyes and a surge of innate protectiveness in his heart. A protectiveness that was echoed by Ben at his side and he was sure bled into his tone when he continued on. "You guys been…wrastling in here or something?"

"Heh…" Allison sighed as she sullenly pointed towards their couch like a child pointing to the monster in closet. Following her finger to the once starch piece of furniture in question as Ray shuffled awkwardly in the doorway of their living room, Klaus found himself face-to-face with someone. Or more accurately, two someones. The body of the dead Swede (as described in detail by an irate Five only hours before) and his ghost standing over it with a disbelieving stare like he couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Oh, oh I see" Klaus muttered as he rose from the investigatory crouch he'd fallen into and began to roll up his sleeves in preparation. "It's gonna be one of _those_ kinda nights, huh? So are we burnin' or buryin'?"

* * *

_**22 November 1963** _

Sometime later when the morning sun had begun to peek over the horizon, Klaus found himself languidly lazing on Allison's couch as he chatted to Ben, as both his sister and his newly traumatised brother-in-law wrapped the dead Swede up in their checkered rug. "God…!" Allison muttered under her breath with a sigh as she tied off the knot around the Swede's legs. "Why are people _so much_ heavier when they're dead?"

"…You got a lot of practise at this?" Ray joked half-heartedly.

"…" Allison merely shot him a look that told him just how much she really knew about the subject. Or at least, that's what Klaus understood the look to mean. In any case, it was enough for the hesitant smile to fall from Ray's lips and sit back, warily watching as his wife cut off the blood to the Swede's legs with surprising strength, trussing up the dead man up like a prized pig.

"Yeah…" Klaus chuckled in agreement, not quite sure if he was agreeing with Ray or Allison.

"Hey! So, what was it like when I possessed you?" Ben pestered his brother, shifting next to him as he brought up the topic _again_ for the umpteenth time since his sudden expulsion the day before. Klaus had ignored him for the most part, far more occupied with his pounding head as he traipsed the dark streets with Luther's orders stuck on a perpetual loop in his head, like an annoying broke record.

"It was like…sex with one of the lesser Baldwins" Klaus replied, inwardly gleeful at the deadpan expression he was levelled with and the confused twin glances from the sister and brother-in-law at his feet. "I mean, you can feel him clattering around in there, but do you really care? Why? What was it like driving all this…hot business?"

"It—it was like having no skin…but still wanting to touch everything"

"Oh yeah…?"

"Ooh! Y'know Kiran and Yugi?" Ben shifted again as the thought popped into his mind, eyes lighting up in excitement. He looked like a puppy trying to get his owner's attention—Klaus could almost picture the tiny little tail wagging back and forth like a metronome.

"Er…" Klaus squinted his eyes as if looking like he was thinking would actually kick-start the process.

"The blonde & the ginger kids?" Ben tried again.

"Uh…" Klaus stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

"The two kids we picked up in San Fransisco?"

"…Nope, not ringin' any bells"

 _"Of course_ not, well anyway, turns out they grew up with Teddy!"

"What? I thought Vanny only had the one kid?" Klaus perked up at the news.

"No—no, _before_ all that—they're part of the same group that Teddy was. That Garde group! With the School and everything!"

 _"Really?_ Did he—?" Whatever he had been about to say was suddenly cut off by the familiar whir and whoosh the Hargreeves were slowly starting to associate with time travel as it illuminated the living room. At their feet, Ray and Allison (who had been grunting and groaning as they hauled the corpse up) suddenly reeled back in shock, dropping the Swede back to the ground with a heavy thunk. "—Shit!" Klaus exclaimed in unison with Ben as both boys practically leapt over the back of the couch as Allison and Ray dropped the body in surprise, their nerves going haywire.

"Oh!" Allison gasped, waving her hands about in panic as Diego and some pint-sized bespectacled businessman blinked into the room with a black briefcase in hand. Much like the one that Five was forever going on about.

"Oh good!" Diego sighed in relief, eyes scanning everyone in the room and shoulders slumping down like a small weight had been lifted off of them. "All right, you're both here. All right, we gotta go"

"Diego! _Jesus!"_ Allison swore, stomping her feet in frustration as Klaus & Ben slid back over the couch to cautiously settle back on the cushions like startled cats.

"Wow!" Chuckled the small businessman, suddenly all smiles. "Number Two, Three _and_ Four. We almost have an Umbrella straight flush here!"

"Ray, this is my _other_ brother, Diego" Allison defeatedly introduced the hispanic man as if she couldn't believe this was happening to her. Again.

"Hey, man" Diego sauntered across the room to shake the wary Ray's hand. Honestly, Klaus couldn't blame him, Diego _was_ a bit of a nutcase—and that was coming from _him_. "Sorry to crash in here like this"

"Hey, who is _this_ guy?" Klaus eventually pointed out the small smiley businessman.

"Herb" Diego replied shortly as he moved back towards the front of the room. "He worked with Five at the Commission"

"The Commission?"

"We monitor and maintain the time-space continuum" Herb helpfully supplied.

"Okay…" Klaus cocked an eyebrow towards Allison asking if she believed any of what he was saying, but he received no response.

"No, for real. I was just there—it was awesome" Diego added before turning to Allison, the known voice of reason. "Okay, I got to look at the timeline, I know what causes doomsday. It's Vanya"

"Wait, what?" Allison perked up, spine straight as a maternal tone bled into her words.

"How?" Klaus finally stood from the couch before he moved to gather with his other siblings.

"She's gonna blow up the federal building at Dealey Plaza, just as the President's passing through in…less than an hour" Diego replied checking his watch. "We gotta find her and stop her. Now"

"Wait, _Vanya_ kills the President?" Allison queried, still trying to wrap her head around the whole idea.

"No, no, no—See, the explosion causes the motorcade to drive off—Kennedy _lives._ Everybody thinks Russia's behind it, even the President. But then Theo's alien hunters think Vanya's one of their targets and tries to kill her. They strike, Vanya strikes back, JFK joins in and before you know it, it's raining nukes"

"Okay, um…do—does anyone know where our nephew is? I mean, maybe he can help us with these—these aliens"

"He's back at the mansion! In the gardens!" Ben called from the couch. Sparing a glance over his shoulder at his deceased brother, Klaus repeated it for the benefit of his siblings.

"Well, let's go get him then!" Allison exclaimed.

"No! We can't!" Diego refuted, "There's no time. We have to go to Dealey Plaza _now!"_

 _"Holy shit…"_ Ray breathed from across the room, backing away from the scheming Hargreeves and catching their attention once more. Honestly, Klaus had entirely forgotten he was there…or how crazy they must've sounded. He was long-used to the crazy by now.

"Ray? Ray, baby" Allison cooed, trying to calm down her frightened husband like he was a startled deer. "Are—are you okay? Okay?"

"No, I'm _not_ okay. First of all, _this_ son of a bitch beams into our living room with yet _another_ one of your brothers!" Ray pointed jerkily at Herb, "—And he's talking about stopping one of your sisters from blowing up some buildings with your alien nephew and I got a dead man wrapped up in my best rug, _babe!"_

"Okay, okay, okay! Can we—can we—Raymond—Ray, Ray—" Allison gently turned Ray's head away from the dead man on their floor as his whole world seemed to unravel like one of the loose threads on his favourite rug.

"Oh! We can have that shampooed" Herb interjected brightly before turning back to the others. "We also provide body removal services!"

Whilst Ray was busy breaking down, Klaus and Diego stood in the doorway watching the scene with rapt attention like they were kids again, people watching from the grimy windows at Griddy's Diner. Klaus almost wished that he had a box of donuts or a bucket of popcorn to nibble on as he took a sick sadistic pleasure in the realtime soap opera playing out before them. Like he said: used to the crazy. Soon enough, Allison was able to calm Ray down enough for Diego to usher all of them out into the street, leaving Herb to clean-up the mess they had left behind.


	27. Can You Play on Broken Strings?

The leather straps were tight around her wrists and ankles, pinning her to the stiff chair no matter how much she struggled. Vanya wasn't sure how long she'd been trapped in the Dallas federal building nor what they were planning to do to her, all she knew that one moment Carl had been talking to her about the wrongness of her budding relationship with Cissy, and the next she was waking up in the backseat of the agent's van, bound and gagged. She should've questioned the sudden addition of the shovel in the car.

The questions had started out inane enough at first: who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want? But then they'd started dredging up her history, or lack thereof and she couldn't very well tell them she was a (supposed) time traveller; they'd have thought she was insane or trying to cover up her allegiance with the KGB (whoever they were) or both. One thing had led to another and before she knew it, she had been strapped into the cold metallic chair with her toes bare to the freezing water they were submerged in and with the electrical currents paired with the LSD now coursing through her veins, the most disturbing scenes were brought to life, courtesy of her own brain.

* * *

For the life of her, Vanya couldn't pinpoint when she'd disappeared from the little torture and interrogation room and reappeared in the darkened water-damaged stairway. The only source of light she had was the one from whence she had come and there was no way she was going back there if she could help it; so that left the only way: forward into the dark. At first she thought the place was deathly silent, almost suffocatingly so, but pricked ears could pick up small sounds that echoed around her like the crashing cymbals of an orchestra. The clattering of cutlery against porcelain china, the sniffling wails of a child in the throes of a nightmare, pattering of feet against the floor, a violin singing a sweet song and so on. She knew these sounds, and yet…

"Nomer sem'!" A strict voice pierced the darkness and the silence, commanding her forward and she felt herself beckoned forth like a hesitant child awaiting the inevitable scolding of a parent. She knew that voice, knew that name; somewhere in the back of her mind, Vanya knew that those words belonged to her and her alone. And yet as she stepped out into the dimly-lit dining room garbed in a school uniform she didn't remember putting on (but knew as her own), she still wondered as to whom she was answering to. A father perhaps? Brother? Uncle? Were they even family member at all? "Number Seven! You're late for supper, sit down"

Where the entrance of the house had been dimly-lit in blue like the film of an underwater reflection, the dining room was bathed in a greenish glow that was just as jaundice and gave off an uncomfortable feeling that was mirrored in most of the occupants surrounding the long oak table. Most, bar from the elderly man silently gesturing for her to take her seat at the other end and the smiley young man Vanya understood to be her son.

Trepidation curled in her gut as she approached the table, moving to take her place at the other end, opposite her guardian—father?. Glancing up, her eyes trailed over Luther, Diego and Five on her left before turning to her right were Allison, Klaus, Ben and Theodore sat; each wearing the same prim school uniform emblazoned with an umbrella. Hair combed back and collars neatly pressed, they all looked like a matching set even with their tense forms as they hunched over the table. Only Five had the audacity to lean his elbows on the tabletop despite the reprimanding glare sent his way.

Shifting uncomfortably beneath all the eyes now on her, Vanya took the brief moment to study the long oak table beneath her calloused fingertips. The wood was oak and scarred with nicks and divots that looked to be made by wayward knives and other unidentifiable items. Each placemat laid before them bore several stacks of unmarked porcelain plates like something from one of Harlan's TV shows, and yet somehow Vanya instantly knew which fork was for what.

"C'me on, Vanya, who are you _really?_ Where did you come from? _"_ The disembodied voice echoed about the cavernous room, bouncing off of the marble pillars and swam between her ears. She knew that voice, she _knew_ she knew that voice, but something just wasn't computing right. It was like trying to solve an equation, but the numbers just weren't adding up right; something was still missing even when she felt like she was staring the answer in the face. "…Vanya, talking to us is your only option. Who is your handler? Answer me"

"Excuse me?" Vanya breathed, confused and uncomfortable beneath the stares trained on her.

"We're all waiting" Her father (she knew it was her father—Luther and Diego had told her about him earlier) demanded.

"For what?"

"The answer"

"I—I don't—I don't understand…"

"So you're not prepared? Is that what you're saying?"

"Well, prepared for what?"

"It's not her fault, Grandfather" Theodore interrupted, expression now guilty and tone now quietly childish as he stared down at the table in front of him like the wood grain would swallow him up if he asked. "I made her forget"

"She hit her head, she can't remember anything" Ben added.

"She got overheated" Allison chimed in next, her tone snarky and smug. "Wiped her mind clean"

"She's lazy" Luther smiled, "Didn't study"

"No, no, that's not it. I—" Vanya protested in vain.

"—Maybe she's been faking it all along?" Klaus suggested as Five stared despairingly at her in disappointment. Somehow that hurt worse than the others' words.

"She's just not ready for this" Ben tried.

"I did more damage than I meant to, I'm sorry Grandfather" Theodore apologised as tears tapped softly against the tabletop and his head remained bowed.

"You're all wrong" Father refuted confidently, "Number Seven deliberately chooses not to remember"

Denial bubbled up inside Vanya and yet a small piece of her wondered if what he said was true. Was she really choosing to forget everything? What was so bad that she didn't want to remember? Would it be better to leave it alone? As these questions whirled around inside her head like a tornado, several well-dressed butlers trundled out cloche-covered dishes that gave off an odd odour which made her stomach turn. "Are you okay?" Vanya asked the blue woman who laid her dish in front of her with graceful movements.

"Of course I am" She smiled kindly, mindless of the missing patch of skin that revealed the glittering circuits dancing beneath and portraying her android secrets "Why wouldn't I be?"

Vanya didn't have an answer for her, save for the strange sense of warmth that surged through her at the woman's appearance. Whomever this woman was to her, it was someone she evidently cared for most fervently—perhaps as a mother? But soon enough, her attention was drawn from the android over her shoulder to the jiggling brain presented to her like some kind of Halloween treat. All around her, the other Hargreeves dug into their brains with much fervour, turning Vanya's gut even more. Faintly she could hear Father telling Theodore to take smaller bites, and for Five to eat his parietal lobe which the teen had been neglecting in favour of the frontal lobe.

"Something wrong?" Father intoned as he slung his napkin across his lap before cutting into his own brain.

"…Just not hungry" Vanya tried to refuse as she felt disgust well up inside her. There was no way she could watch her family eat the organ, but hearing them was just as bad.

"Try it. It might help you remember… _remember"_

"…Vanya, what are you doing in Dallas?" The disembodied voice sounded again, grating against her ears just as Klaus' knife grated violently against the plate like he was trying to cleave the entire thing in half. "Keep ignoring me and see what happens…we will get you to talk"

"…Mama" Theodore leant in close, with eyes ringed red. "You gotta eat dinner or you won't get dessert"

Vanya could feel all eyes on her again as she cut the smallest sliver from the brain in front of her, inspecting the piece as it glistened beneath the jaundice lighting. Heaving a sigh, Vanya stuffed the piece into her mouth and tried her best to swallow it down even though her body wanted nothing more than to eject it. Choking on the tiny piece in her mouth, Vanya became subjected to quick flashes of what she could only presume to be her memories. A bloody birth, a tired mother, Harlan drawing fervently. "Number Seven!" Father scolded as she tried to choke down the brain even as her siblings laughed at her, no matter how stifled the sound was. "Either you remember or you will go to your room _without_ dessert!"

* * *

Sometime later when the lights had stopped flickering dangerously and the sudden surge of pain had abided enough, Vanya found herself back at the dining table only now she was alone with her Father. "Eat up, it's getting cold" Father ordered as Vanya came back to herself. The horrendous brain still remained glistening on the plate in front of her. Something tickled in the back of her mind about the familiarity of the situation; of her refusing to eat, despite Father's instructions to do so.

"I don't want it" Vanya refused.

"I know you don't want it" Father replied as he stalked around the table, coming closer to her end. "But you can't pretend it doesn't exist"

"I'm _not_ pretending"

"Of course you are. You choose to live in a fantasy, a land of make-believe where you don't have to face up to who you _really_ are. Rather than face the complexities of your own existence, you choose to hide inside someone else's. A silly life on a silly farm" Father turned to the now illuminated portrait above the mantel displaying the trio of Coopers—a stern Carl with wife, Cissy and son, Harlan. "That's not meant for you"

There were no inflections placed on the last words, and yet they were the ones that hurt the most. _Why_ wasn't that meant for her? _Why_ couldn't she have that? Not once did the thought of her own son or family creep into her mind, far too occupied with the one her father was ripping from her white-knuckled grasp. It was like he had told her Santa Claus wasn't real; like he'd just sucked all the magic and specialness out of the relationship. "You can't deny your true self any longer" Father continued, "Even if you are afraid"

"I'm _not_ afraid!" Vanya panted, fearful of the man standing over her and yet still defiant.

"Then _eat!_ One more bite and then you can go"

Quickly slicing and stuffing another chunk of brain into her mouth, Vanya hoped that getting it over with would mean she could leave the table—leave this situation as soon as possible. Unfortunately as soon as she closed her lips, an unexplainable pain erupted in her brain, bringing forth more of those flashes of memories that pounded at her like thunder. Birth, a tuning fork against glasses, clinking of pills, a singing violin, a kind lying smile, an explosion of sound, Allison's terrified eyes, swirling energy and sound combing together in a symphony of destruction, blinding white, fire, destruction, pain, a loud heartbeat, challenging roars, gunfire, painful wails. On and on and on and _on._ "Remember…I…remember…I…remember…"

* * *

White. It was white, so much white: ivory, marble, white, white, _white._ Vanya didn't know where she was; a reoccurring occurrence she had come to find. What she _did_ know, she could count on the one hand: 1) Bach's _'Partita No.2 in D Minor'_ was echoing around her and she could feel her fingers pluck invisible strings as if she was the one doing so. 2) Her son, Theodore (figment he may currently be) was dancing along to the song, using his telekinesis to float and flip and fly much as he had done as a child when she practised in the Icarus Theatre. 3) She remembered _EVERYTHING._

A deep sorrow had wormed its way into her heart and even watching her son dance to the familiar tune did nothing to cheer her up. "Vanya?" Ben's voice queried from above her, cautious and concerned. Sitting up, she was met with a different version of her brother from the one before—this one she recognised from the very last time she had seen him on the morning of that fateful mission. Her heart clenched tight at the sight of him. "Do you remember me?" He smiled.

"I—I remember e-everything!" Vanya's voice trembled, voice thick with emotions and tears streaming down her face as she curled up against the pillar at her back. "And—and I—I'm doing it a-again, aren't I? What's—what's wrong with me?! Why can't I control myself like the rest of you guys?"

"It's not too late!" Ben cooed, sitting down at her feet while she sobbed into her knees. "You can go back, there's still time"

"I—I don't deserve to live" She sobbed, unable to look at Ben or Theodore. "I killed Pogo. I almost killed Allison. I destroyed the world. Teddy—Teddy hates me. I'm a m-monster!"

"…Dad treated you like a bomb before you ever were one" Ben scooted closer, "He was…so scared of your power, he never let you use it. Drugged you up, kept you numb for years. That's messed up, Vanya, no wonder you couldn't control it. Dad couldn't handle your anger, that doesn't mean _you_ can't. And maybe you have a right to be pissed off & sad & messed up, but…it's a shitty world, full of shitty people sometimes"

Vanya's tears abated some as she watched his pale hand slip into hers, his concerned gaze still searching her depressed one for any sign of life. "Teddy doesn't hate you…He's scared"

"O-of me?"

 _"No._ He…he's scared you'll give him up, like our mothers did. He's scared that the aliens hunting him will hurt you" Vanya followed Ben's look over to where the fake Theodore was pirouetting about the room like a spinning top. "He doesn't want to be alone anymore"

"But—but—"

"—You're a great Mom, Vanya, even Mom thought so"

"…Really?"

"You did good"

"…But he's not even mine"

 _"Yes,_ he is" He turned back to face her, hand gripped tight in his and eyes full of love. "You _aren't_ a monster. You're a mother. You're my sister, and right now our siblings are risking everything out there trying to save you. You aren't alone at the table anymore, Vanya, you can do this"

Vanya felt her tears fade away, some of the sadness still lingering as she rose to her feet alongside Ben who had begun to peel away in glittering flecks of blue. "Ben, what's happening to you?" She asked.

"I…can't go back with you" Ben sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"…"

"I'm hurting you, aren't I?"

"It's not your fault. I've been holding on as long as I can in here, but…"

"You shouldn't have come for me"

"Vanya…I died 17 years ago. All the rest of this…these years with Klaus…it's all been gravy. At least this time I get to say goodbye…"

The sadness that still lingered, returned with force as the situation finally hit home. Ben was leaving, for good this time. "…Can I ask you a weird favour?" Ben asked hesitantly.

"Anything" Vanya promised, meaning every letter.

"Can you hug me as I go? It's been a long time since—" As Bach's piece reached its climax, Vanya pulled her deteriorating brother in close for a hug, burying her head in his chest over where his unseating heart lay. He was warm, unlike what any ghost should be and maybe that was because of where they were, but Vanya was grateful for it. Both happy that she got to cling tight to her brother one last time before he left and sad as he whispered the last of his dying words in her ear.

Collapsing slightly once he was gone, Vanya remained rooted in place, tears streaming down her face until quiet feet pattered over to her. Theodore, who had shrunken in age and size (likely in response to her emotions) until he was the eight year old she had plucked from her doorstep all those years ago, reached up a single hand to her and childishly asked; "Can we go home now, Mama?"

Vanya took his hand and opened her eyes.


	28. Dallas' Most Wanted

Traipsing through the crowds gathered for the Presidential parade had been much easier than Klaus would've liked to admit. Although Diego had to keep his head down because of the outstanding warrant for his arrest concerning his escape from the Holbrook Sanitarium some days prior. Not to mention his own issues regarding the, uh…supposed tax evasion. But c'me on, what religious leader— _"Cult! It's a cult!"_ —paid taxes? None that were still alive, as far as Klaus was aware. Honestly, Allison was likely the only one out of the three of them that was likely to be okay…then again, there was that whole thing with the protests, so maybe not.

The Hargreeves had been banking on the fact that due to the President's approaching arrival in the infamous plaza, then the majority of the federal agents would be out of the building and out of their way. What they _hadn't_ taken into account was the gill-necked aliens that sat peppered about the street, shadowed by their large rocking trucks and matrix-styled outfits. Diego—the only one besides Five & Theodore to have seen these aliens—had quickly ushered both Klaus and Allison into the federal building with hasty movements and watchful eyes trailing over their mysterious opponents.

Slipping into the elevator alongside Diego, Allison and Ben (who stood in front of the doors like some deranged bellhop), they slowly began to climb the levels. "I hope we find Vanya in time" Allison mused as the elevator whirred through each new level and haunting music played over the speakers.

"Hm" Diego hummed noncommittally, shuffling in place with impatience.

"I'm sure if we talk to Vanny, everything'll sort itself out" Klaus replied mellowly, trying to hide how apprehensive he was about the whole thing. The last time they'd had to go up against their overpowered sister, the moon had burst into a million pieces, the world had burned like a overheated pudding cup in the microwave and the Hargreeves had been splattered across the timeline in Dallas.

And that had been Vanya _with_ her memories intact and a semblance of control. This time around, there was no time traveller in their back pocket nor blue bejewelled nephew to splinter the energy attacks should she decide to strike. In all senses, they were royally screwed and if Klaus had figured it out, then it was highly likely that the other two had as well.

"Whoa! What was that?" Allison wobbled sightly and braced herself against the elevator wall when the light above them suddenly began to flicker dangerously and the walls shook violently by some unseen force. Neither of the boys had an answer for her, and Klaus felt his heart climb up his throat as it became clogged with anxiety.

**_DING!_ **

No sooner had the elevator doors opened onto their chosen floor, did Allison receive her answer. Wave after wave of powerful pulsating energy quickly suffocated the three, making it hard to move—hard to _breathe_ as they soon found themselves plastered against the walls of the elevator. Peering around the open doors, Klaus was able to catch a glimpse of the multitude of dead bodies laid about like macabre ornaments, blood splattered along the hallways like a toddler had taken to them with a paintbrush and piles of black & blue glittering ash clogged the hallways.

Crawling out of the elevator by the strength of his nails, Klaus was barely able to pull himself out of the rocking box after Allison and Diego who had taken refuge behind one of the few still standing desks. It was only with the help of Allison that Klaus was able to nestle himself in the crook between his sister and the wall as blinding white waves of pure energy rained down on them. "Question, guys—" Klaus mused, trying not to get blown backwards. "Who are we trying to save Vanya from?"

"FBI"

"Aliens!" Both Allison and Diego chorused in annoyance at the question.

"But if they're all sucking ceiling right now, why hasn't she stopped?"

"Vanya's in the room at the end of the hall!" Diego replied, sharing a wide-eyed glance with his siblings as he realised one of them was going have to go down there and deal with her. But if the power they were experiencing was on the outer reaches, then who's to say what it would be like further in? Would they even be able to stand it? Would Vanya really kill them this time?

"How do you propose we get to her?" Allison retorted.

"I haven't figured that one out yet"

"You can count me out" Klaus piped up.

"Klaus!" Allison scolded.

"What?" Klaus replied, slurping from the flask that had been stuffed into his pocket. "You guys should save her. You're great at all the hero shit"

"Oh Klaus!"

"Listen, listen! Vanya would understand 'cause she has realistic expectations of what I am! And what I am is sexy trash!"

"You're big pussy, that's what you are!" Diego fired back.

"Guys, now is _not_ the time" Allison scolded the pair.

"Why?" Klaus whined, "Because I don't wanna die? Who does? And martyrs aren't around to enjoy the victory party 'cause they're dead!"

"So what? You'd leave Theo motherless?"

"She's not even his real mother!"

"Klaus!" Allison barked again, offended on behalf of her sister.

"You're going out there—!" Diego jumped over Allison, moving to wrestle Klaus out into hallway.

"—I'm not! Go away—!" Klaus fought back.

"—I'm going to beat you!"

"And _that's_ my cue!" Allison snarked, rolling her eyes at her brothers' behaviour before she launched herself around the desk's edge much to their horror. Klaus felt his heart leapt up into his throat as he watched in wide-eyed horror as Allison risked herself for her sister; the same sister mind you, that was currently trying to kill them.

"Hey! Allison!"

"No! Allison!" Klaus wailed, but still unable to move from his spot. Guilt spurred him to move but fear kept him rooted in place, the two strong emotions warring within him.

"All right! I'm going!" Diego announced as he kept his eyes locked on the brilliant white room at the end of the room; determination burning bright as Allison came flying back at them.

"No, wait, wait, wait, wait—!"

"What?"

"If you don't make it back, there's one thing I need to tell you…"

"Klaus, I don't have time for this!"

"Please"

_"What?"_

"You—you look like Antonio Banderas with the long hair. I just thought you should know"

"Thanks man" Diego murmured before launching himself down the hall in an attempt to reach their sister just as Allison had tried and failed to do only moments before.

Curling up into ball in his little corner behind the desk, Klaus slapped his hands over his ears and tried his best to ignore what was going on around him. He loved Vanya—she was his little sister, of course he did—but he was no hero, never really had been. What use was seeing the dead when you were fighting villains? When you were trying to reach your overpowered sister with anxiety issues? What would he even do if he somehow reached her? Give her a hug? Knock her out?

"KLAUS!" Diego bellowed over the roar of power pulsating around them. "I'M NOT GONNA MAKE IT! It's up to you, buddy! You gotta save the world!"

"No, Diego, that's a terrible idea!" Klaus refuted, blinking back tears. He'd never heard his brother sound so defeated before. He only received the unreeling of the firehose in reply. "Okay, Klaus. You _can_ do this! You fought in Vietnam! You survived a family of _seven!_ And you once wore a sarong to a fraternity party and got a _shitload_ of numbers!"

Klaus had never felt more like Jesus than when he pulled himself to his feet following the odd pep talk and tried to walk against the awesome power his sister was emanating. Using the firehouse to pull himself up the hallway one hand at a time with gritted teeth and bleeding ears, until he launched himself the last foot to the door where a white-knuckled grip on the door knob was all that was keeping him from joining his siblings on the floor behind him. A new kid of pain rang through his body now as he tried to haul the door open with little success.

**_CLICK_ **

The small noise and sudden give beneath his grip was all the warning that Klaus was given before the next white shockwave sent him sailing back down the hall like a long forgotten rag doll tossed aside in favour of the next best toy. Slamming up against the desk, Klaus felt himself pressed up against and intertwined with his siblings' limp bodies and a part of him hoped that they were just unconscious; that that was the only thing wrong with them. "Benny…" Klaus groaned lowly, eyes barely peeling open as he peered up at their ghostly brother unaffected by environment around them. "Help…"

* * *

When Klaus next woke, the pulsating waves of power they had been trying so hard to fight were long gone, the bodies of the FBI agents no longer plastered to the walls and Vanya—a little worse for wear—stood over them with concern and guilt warring in her eyes. "Are you okay?" Vanya gasped.

"Vanya!" Allison breathed, pushing herself up onto her elbows as she tried to disentangle herself from her brothers' splayed limbs.

"Physically or emotionally?" Klaus whimpered from the floor.

"You're alive" Diego chuckled in disbelief.

"Did we save the world or what?"

"I think so" Allison sighed, leaning back against the desk as Klaus sat upright. "Building's still here"

"…Kennedy's a few minutes away" Diego glanced down at his watch with excitement gleaming in his eyes as Klaus fingered the blood now drying in his ears. "I can still save him!"

"No, Diego! Wait!" Allison called after her manic brother who had risen to his feet and dashed down the hall like a mad man.

"I still got time to stop Dad before Kennedy makes his final turn"

"No, no! Where are you going?!" Allison pulled back Diego before he could leave through the door and make a vital mistake. If they hadn't been meddling in the timeline before, this would certainly do it now.

"Look, I saw the explosion—I saw the tapes, Allison" Diego reasoned, "The explosion causes doomsday. You're safe now. He doesn't have to die"

"No, no, Diego—!" She protested in vain.

Joining Allison by the large bay window, Vanya and Klaus all watched from the federal building as the President's motorcade rounded the street corner and their idiot brother sprinted down the path and across the green to where a man with an umbrella stood ready and waiting. "Kennedy's turning" Allison noted glumly. "It's happening again"

"Oh, Jackie!" Klaus agreed in much the same tone as he listened to the gunshots rings out, scattering people like the ants they appeared to be from that height. Part of Klaus wondered what the President's ghost would have to say, if he ever met him.

A nearby radio which had miraculously survived Vanya, relayed the infamous bulletin of JFK's assassination—an assassination, they had just watched in realtime. _"…KLIF bulletin from Dallas: three shots reportedly were fired at the motorcade of President Kennedy today, near the downtown section. KLIF News is checking out the report. We will have further…"_

"So…now what?" Vanya murmured.

"I guess…we should go find Theo and the others" Allison replied, still staring glumly at the street in which JFK was just murdered, the motorcade still left abandoned there with the remaining federal agents and police trying to secure the scene as quickly as possible.

**_BOOM!_ **

Across the way, hidden amongst a sprawling patch of green, several neighbouring trees were suddenly hefted from their roots and flung away. The only reason Klaus had noticed it (besides the loud noise) was because one of the trees had landed in the middle of the street mere meters from the officers who were swarming the abandoned motorcade.

**_ROOOOOAR!_ **

Even from this distance, he could catch glimpses of the glittering blue of the loralite rearing above the treetops & buildings, and the few reporters who had remained after the shots had fired, split from the crowd of media instead flittering over to the roaring beast nestled there. Klaus shielded his eyes from the sun bouncing off of the window in front of him as he let out a defeated sigh that was echoed by his sisters. "Who wants to bet that's out little alien?"


	29. Little Boy Blue

Following the introduction of Theodore's supposedly dead uncle and the announcement that Uncle Five had found them a way home, the three boys had wandered off the cult's property and down through Dallas, making their way back towards Commerce & Knox. Theodore had meant to head straight back to the little alleyway in which he had landed all those years ago, but Kiran and Yugi had convinced him that a small detour to pick up booze and other accoutrement wouldn't do any harm. Theodore reasoned that the alcohol would likely soften up his crabby little uncle even if they were only a few minutes late—Uncle Five sure did love his drink.

A lot of people had given the trio a wide berth as they walked down the streets of central Dallas; most people giving them odd looks whilst others crossed the street entirely, avoiding them like they carried some kind of disease. It was Kiran in the end, who had to explain to Theodore what was going on whilst they waited in some back alley that Theodore used to frequent in his homeless years in the city, purchasing booze from some guy with sun-kissed skin and missing teeth. Apparently Destiny's Children had quite the reputation around these parts.

Before long the three had popped the lids on the alcohol, guzzling it down like fine wine and splayed their bodies over the green blades of some patch of grass close to the plaza. Theodore was hesitant to call it a park, if only because of the size of the greenery and the towering buildings that leered down at them from all sides. But it was a sweet little place nonetheless. Whilst Kiran talked his ear off about this and that, seemingly talking about everything and nothing all at once, Yugi whittled away at a blade of grass trapped between pearly whites and watched them with eagle eyes. Theodore wasn't sure how long they'd been in the little park before the Mogadorians had arrived.

He hadn't really seen them coming—hadn't heard anything that could've alerted him to their presence, although that may have been the moonshine talking. All he knew was that Kiran had been dancing wildly, singing some jaunty little tune about Loric nights and the next he was stock-still and clutching at his stomach, his song long-forgotten. "Y-Yu?" Kiran stuttered, turning to the ginger with wide fearful eyes. Facing the older teen as he was, Theodore was able to see the gaping and smoking hole now engraved onto the boy's back from where he had jolted upright. None of them had even heard the firearm go off. "I—I don't feel so good"

"KIRAN!" Yugi cried, leaping from the bench and tripping slightly over his own feet as he tried to reach the boy before he hit the ground. "It's—it's okay. You're okay, you're okay"

A cocktail of possessive protectiveness surged through Theodore demanding vengeance as he rocked to his feet and spied the alien hunters as they crept from the shadows with cyber firearms in hand. A youngling in his care had been hurt and his guilty conscious demanded that that wrong _must_ be righted. He didn't even have to think about his actions before his body began to fold and twist into unnatural positions as the shift took control. A snarl garbed his morphing muzzle as bones cracked and flesh receded in favour of the loralite scales flared in warning. With a dangerous growl rumbling from somewhere in his chest, the roiling ropes of serpentine muscle gave way to the so-called _'Dallas Dragon'_ who wasted no time in shooting forward to devour the hordes of Mogs lining the shrinking shadows.

* * *

Squishy flesh squelched beneath their clawed toes and bones crackled like toothpicks as Loren slithered about the small patch of grass like a snake, devouring Mogadorian soldiers as if they were nothing more than ants. It was clear to Loren at least, that this hunting party had been scrounged together at the last minute as there were very few soldiers actually present and they hadn't begun with the standard chimaera leading the charge like a hunting dog. Instead, the few that had dared to step foot onto the greenery were quickly and easily overwhelmed by the serpentine loralite. Loren was sure that even if Theodore hadn't fully transformed, he would have been able to take down these pathetic excuses just as easily. It was almost laughable, and that was why it hurt so much more that they had been able to land a hit on the youngling.

It was the raspy Loric song in the end, which brought their large muzzle swinging around to face the Loric pair still tucked in next to the toppled park bench that brought Loren back to attention. The ginger teen held the bleeding youngling in his arms, so tight that it would've likely hurt any other creature, but it's not like it mattered either way. Even from here, they could taste the bitter tang of blood on the air.

_"My love, my love, my fearless love  
_ _I will not say goodbye  
_ _Sea may rise, sky may fall  
_ _My love will never die  
_ _Go on, go on, go bravely on  
_ _Into the blackest night  
_ _Hold my breath 'til your return  
_ _My love will never die…"_

Loren let the Loric words roll over him like waves crashing over sharp rocks, smoothing away the anger with patience and time. Crawling closer, they recognised the words to be some kind of lullaby or promise to the youngling—a promise that he would _never_ be forgotten no matter where or when he went.

_"…My heart, my heart, my drowning heart  
_ _Oh all the tears I've cried  
_ _Oh I may weep forevermore  
_ _My love will never die  
_ _My love, my love, my fearless love  
_ _I will not say goodbye  
_ _Sea may rise, sky may fall  
_ _My love will never die…"_

Roiling muscle curled up around their small patch of grass, encasing them in a dome of loralite and muscle. Now free of the persistent Mogs that had pounded at them only moments before, Loren dropped their head onto their claws with a pitiful whine. Dark eyes like deep pools watched the pair with such a hyper-focus that it was almost like they were afraid the Garde pair would disappear if they so much as blinked or turned away.

_"…My love, my love, my fearless love  
_ _I will not say goodbye  
_ _Sea may rise, sky may fall  
_ _My love will never die  
_ _Sea may rise, sky may fall  
_ _My love will never die  
_ _My love will never die"_

The last of the lyrics had barely left Yugi's lips when Kiran smiled brightly up at the elder and relaxed into him, weak arms coming up to clutch at the arms holding him in an awkward returning hug. "G'night Y-Yu" Kiran smiled happily as his eyes slid shut one last final time, before his body began to crumble down into the loralite-speckled ash of their homeland.  
"K-Kiran!" Yugi desperately reached out for the twisting specks of ash as a gentle breeze drifted through the park, creeping in through the cracks between Loren's layers and picked up the broken bodies littered about them. Mogadorian and Loric alike were taken away on the gentle evening breeze, now moving on to a better place. "Come—come back! Kiran! Please! I need you…"

Curling in tighter around the grieving Loric, Loren could only watch with his heart clenching in pain for the boy as he collapsed back on to the grass beneath him and wailed like a banshee for the friend he had just lost. Fists beat against the ground in indescribable anger as telekinesis picked up clods of dirt and daisies, whirling around Yugi like a tornado of pain. Yugi's psionic powers were far beyond anything that either Loren or Theodore had ever encountered before, so much so that Loren would hazard a guess that the ginger's main Legacy leant more towards the mental prowess of the Ordin House than that of the Frija House. Of course, if that was the case then it brought up far more questions than answers. But now was not the time for that.

The earth quaked and the buildings around them shook like Jenga towers as Yugi howled his pain into grass still clenched between his fingers, weeping for the friend he had lost and despairing over his own stupidity. "…It's not _fair!_ Why couldn't you just kill me? Kill me! KILL ME! KILL ME! DO IT! DO IT! KILL ME! I just want it to end~!" Scrabbling for a hold on the quickly disappearing ground, Loren and Theodore's shared mind scrambled for a solution that would allow them both to get out of this situation with minimal damage to both their surroundings and themselves. As durable as loralite was, it could only stand so much pressure before it eventually crumbled away. Nothing lasted forever, not even regenerative alien rock. Honestly, they were lucky that most of the damage had managed to be contained within the dome created by Loren's glittering coils.

Eyes squinted against the onslaught provided by Yugi, Loren contemplated pining the boy down or even swallowing him down if only to stop the ever-creaking buildings either side of them that sounded dangerously close to falling in on their little patch of grass. Absently, they noted the sudden increase in activity around their vicinity like there was people now there. Ducking their head and bending at an awkward angle, Loren peered out through a small gap in their coils to see what was going on.

Ash covered the park in such a thick layer that one would've thought a massive fire had run rampant through there, leaving only blackened soot and glittering embers behind. At least that would be the assumption until you took into account the golden canopy still swaying above them, their leaves dancing in a gently breeze that did not exist inside their coils. Down below, along the edges of the park lay a thick crowd of people that Loren could've sworn weren't there earlier. It seemed that their little scuffle had caught the attention of the public. Shutters snapped as cameras locked onto him and people pointed & laughed, happily gazing upon the elusive beast only barely spotted in the botanical gardens. Some children were even throwing rocks at them as if doing so would grant them wishes or something.

Loren was about to retreat back into their coils when a collection of familiar scents floated in on the wind, catching their attention. Roasted coffee, alcohol, old blood. That scent belonged to the littlest of Theodore's uncles with a penchant for killing. Salty sweat and musty ape. The scent belonging to Theodore's biggest uncle, Luther, and finally the scent of Theodore's vigilante uncle, Diego; smelling of the clinical medicines of a hospital, the sweet tang of death and the ever-present metallic tang of his knives. There. Pushing their way through the throngs and staring up at them with blatant disbelief and panic, the three uncles stood on the park's edge with wide eyes as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Of course, Diego and Five were the only two who had seen at least part of their transformation before, but for Luther who had only ever seen what they could do back in 2019, well, he appeared to be floundering like a fish out of water.

**_BANG! BANG!_ **

Loren's head jerked upwards at the noise, head erupting from the coils so quick that it felt like whiplash. With ears pricked and nostrils flared, Loren tried their best to discern what was going on, but it was hard to tell over the fearful screams of the public and the pained wails of Yugi from within. Speaking of Yugi, in that brief moment that Loren had risen from their coil, the ginger's Legacy had lashed out harder than before and caught them by surprise, eliciting a pained roar from them.

**_ROOOOOOAR!_ **

The hit was by no means damaging, but the surprise for which they had been hit was what elicited the response from them. Shaking off the brief ache accompanied by a slab of dirt rocketing upwards like a projectile, Loren made up their mind and dove back inwards with their jaw wide open, easily clamping their large jaws around the grieving Garde before they slithered over to the uncovered drainage ditch that flowed onto the sewers deep below the city. They were soon gone with a flick of their loralite tail, leaving behind chaos and disorder in their wake, although not entirely of their own volition.


	30. Clash of the Garde

A few moments following the assassination of one John F. Kennedy found Theodore and Yugi spilling out of the sewers and into the alley behind Commerce & Knox with all the grace of limp noodles. It appeared the subsequent swallowing and regurgitation of Yugi had worn down his tantrum some, but the boy was still understandably upset. Theodore hadn't known Kiran for that long; sure, they had grown up together, but there had been a lot of kids at School, and very few ever broke through the unspoken barriers to form tentative friendships with each other. Why bother, when you could die tomorrow? Of course, there had been a few brave souls like Barbara and Kiran who had thrown that rule to the wind, forming those bonds anyway, and look how they ended up.

So it was with this in mind that Theodore didn't particularly grieve for the youngling, as cold-hearted as it sounded, at least not like Yugi was. Those two had clearly gone through so much together for the teen to be reacting in such a way. Whilst the Loric Garde paced up and down the alley like a caged animal muttering to himself and getting all worked up again; the Human Garde slowly pushed himself up into a hunched position, hands on his knees and head bowed as the two minds split painfully split apart. You'd think that with the frequency that the pair often shifted control, the change would become easier to handle not harder, but alas.

"Shhh!" Theodore groaned, bending over to cradle his aching head in his hands. "Quiet yelling! Quiet yelling"

"Kiran just _died!"_ Yugi furiously spun on his heel, facing the (physically) older Garde with a wicked red-eyed glare, trimmed with tear-tracked cheeks.

"I know, and my head is killing _me,_ so shhhh!"

"HE WAS _13!"_ Yugi snapped, growing louder as he stepped closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Theodore acknowledged the sudden appearance of Uncle Five blinking into the alleyway with the rest of his family rounding the corner not far behind.

"I KNOW THAT!" Theodore saw red, shooting up to stand over the boy with a wince, doing his best to ignore the pain shooting through his head in protest."GOD, DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?! BUT YELLING ABOUT IT OR KILLING YOURSELF ISN'T GOING TO BRING HIM BACK!"

"IF BARBARA WERE HERE—" Yugi bargained, shuffling back a step or two as the elder Hargreeves edged closer with wary movements; watching the pair of them like they were escaped animals at the zoo.

"—But she's not. _You_ killed her, remember?" Theodore cut off coldly; the icy tone easily cutting through any further protests from the boy. He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his tongue, especially at the violent flinch he received from the other boy.

"We didn't mean to…"

"And yet she's still gone"

Theodore knew he was being far harsher to the boy than was necessary, but some petty little vindictive part of him felt like he needed to remind Yugi that he—that they—weren't as invincible as he seemed to think they were. God! Didn't he remember the horror that was the School? Theodore didn't think he could ever forget that; not even with a thousand bottles of moonshine or Ordin interference. But once he'd started venting, he wasn't sure that he could stop no matter how much his brain was screaming for him to. It was like the entirety of his Garde experience was finally coming to a head, and unfortunately for Yugi, he was the recipient to this exchange. _"Poor little Loric"_ Theodore purred, eyes narrowed and lips pulled up in a cruel smirk—he'd definitely gone too far by now. "Playing house for three years, but no more. Sad little Loric, all alone and so very _weak"_

"You have _no_ right!" Yugi slammed him back, pinning Theodore up against the brick wall in one quick move. The protests from his family were ignored as a crooked elbow pinned him against the tarnished brick. "You have _no idea_ what happened to us, _2419!"_

"Oh I don't, do I _2109?"_ Theodore pushed back, easily throwing off the boy and shoved him to the ground at his feet.

A quick glance out of the corner of his eyes was spared towards the end of the alleyway where the elder Hargreeves stood watching them in varying stages of interest and distress. Uncle Klaus appeared to be throughly enjoying the interaction as if they were nothing more than a live-action soap opera, Uncle Luther appeared rather confused by all the strange terms and accusations thrown around, but his shoulders were hunched in tight—even if he didn't know what they were saying, he could understand their actions and tones just fine. Uncles Five and Diego were the only two who seemed genuinely interested in the scene, analysing their words and movements with skills only gained through years of training. Finally, both Mama and Auntie Allison stood shifting in place with visible distress displayed on their features as they warred with how to intervene in on the situation. Having dealt with superpowered siblings was one thing, but two children with _alien_ powers was another can of worms all together.

"Don't I know about the experiments? Don't I know about the Augments? Don't I know about the graves we dug or the brands burnt onto our skin?" Theodore pursued as he ignored the hushed gasps from the other end of the alley. Stalking towards Yugi like a predator, he let his resentment towards the aliens and their blasted organisation wash over him as the ginger tried to back-pedal away from quiet feet. He only got so far however, before his back smashed up against the dumpster on the other side of the alleyway. "And what about _you, 2109?_ What do _you_ know about our hunters? About sacrifice? About destinies?"

Yugi stared up at Theodore with teary eyes full of fear—fear that he was clearly trying to hide (shown by the clenched fists at his sides and nails biting into his palm) as the Human Garde crouched down at his feet and stared at him with pupiless loralite blue eyes that pinned him in place. Theodore was honestly sorry about the words that were coming out of his mouth, but it was like he'd lost control of his lips, making him unable to stop no matter how much he wanted to…But it did feel nice to finally let it all out, a small part of him had to admit. Hopefully, he wouldn't say _that_ bit out loud.

"They're gone, you little dorvak and there's _nothing_ we can do" Theodore's tone softened, dropping down an octave as his eyes lowered from his peer's fearful ones to Kiran's ashen-smudged pendant where it lay entangled with his own. The smiley little Loric popped to mind, his little jaunty tune still playing through his aching head and Theodore deflated like a wet balloon. The two little Frija Lorics had clearly gone through a lot together, and losing one or the other hadn't factored into their minds. But that didn't mean Theodore would take Yugi's abuse lying down and if he was being honest, his ranting retort had been long-coming. He kinda hoped that the emotional suppressant wasn't something he'd picked up from Mama—he'd seen how well that technique had turned out for her. "The Mogs will always hunts us to the ends of the earth, whether you like or not"

He let out a heavy sigh as his pounding head bowed as if silently asking for forgiveness from the teen. All the fight had gone out of him by this point and Theodore wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear. The scowling boy he had met only hours before had been reduced into a snivelling mess at his feet and all because his friend had been killed in front of him and Theodore had thrown his failures right back into his face, alongside other grievances that had nothing to do with him all whilst under the stare of the Umbrella Academy. He felt like the wind had been knocked from his sails as a sad smile graced his lips. "So" He petted Yugi's outstretched foot, only barely able to ignore the flinch that had Yugi wincing when his head bumped against the dumpster at the action. "Let me know when you've climbed off of that high horse of yours and we can sort this shit out"

"Where—where're are you going?" Yugi stuttered out as Theodore rose to his feet and shuffled towards the back door of Elliot's department store with his head still pounding, but now his heart clenched in sorrow and guilt coursed through him like a raging river.

"To take a nap. Wake me when we're dead"

* * *

**_WHOOSH!_ **

"What the hell was that?!" Uncle Five demanded as he blinked into the foyer of the abandoned department store, barely giving Theodore any room to breathe. He must've looked quite the sight, sat crouched on the stained floor with his fingers twined into his locks and tears streaking down freckled cheeks that heaved with each hiccupy breath. Uncle Five's voice sounded muffled in Theodore's ears as everything seemed to hit him all at once. Kiran's death, Mama's disownment of him, the approaching Apocalypse, the Mogadorians hunting them _still._ On and on and _on._

 _"Hey!_ Who is that? What's this about _more_ people outta time? Hey! Theodore! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Uncle Five demanded, pacing in front of the crouched boy scrunching and unscrunching his fingers like he was trying to refrain from wringing his neck. Absently Theodore noticed that the floor beneath his feet was stained with dried blood that crackled and peeled away with each minuscule movement that ran overtop of it. Clearly someone had tried their best to clean up whatever had marred the floor, but they hadn't done a very good job or hadn't expected the blood stain to stick so much. _"Theodore!"_

"He's—he's like me" Theodore whispered as his tears mixed with snot and dripped onto the already messy floor.

"…What?" Uncle Five stopped at that, locking his calculating eyes on his nephew who refused to raise his head.

"They're a Student—uh, a Garde, like me" Guilt roiled inside Theodore as he reflexively rubbed at the brand engraved onto his left wrist. Ever the eagle-eyed assassin, Uncle Five's hand shot out to snatch up the limb in question and pulled his nephew to his feet so as to easier inspect it. Theodore barely struggled in his grip, far too drained—physically & emotionally—to try and wrangle his way out of the tight grip.

"They?" Uncle Five asked softly, his hand gently shoving back the floppy cardigan sleeve to reveal Theodore's Student ID printed there. It was like watching through someone else's eyes as the calloused thumb ran back and forth over the raised numbers with a gentleness that Theodore didn't really acquaint with the schoolboy assassin.

"Th—there—there was another one—a youngling" Theodore hiccuped, wiping his other sleeve across his face in an effort to get rid of the mess splattered there. It didn't do much except disgust his uncle. "He was just a youngling…why is it always the younglings?"

At this, Theodore slowly lifted his head to look at Uncle Five who bore a thoughtful expression as he sucked on his lower lip and grazed his nephew's face with narrowed eyes. Theodore hadn't really explained what was going on and it was clear that his uncle didn't really understand what was going on, but was intent on finding out. Especially if whatever Theodore had brought to the table had thrown an unexpected wrench into his carefully crafted half-baked plans. He wasn't sure if Uncle Five had answered his question, lost in thought as he was, but in the end it didn't matter. It seemed his body had made the decision for him; swaying once, twice and then slumping into his small uncle. Theodore felt more than saw the arms come up to stop him from taking the pair of them to the floor with a surprised grunt as his own body collapsed into noodles.

**_WHOOSH!_ **

Theodore had barely blinked, before he found himself being teleported further into the building and then shoved none-so-gently onto the awaiting couch. Staring dizzily up at his smallest uncle, Theodore barely flinched when the crocheted blanket was tossed over him, sliding over his head and flopping over splayed legs; instead far more interested in hiding beneath it as his ears pricked towards the sounds of hushed chatter of his family floating up the stairs. At least that was until he was shoved down onto the cushions by Uncle Five who had procured a cup of coffee and stared down at him over the rim of the steaming cup with concerned eyes. "Sleep"

"…G'night Uncle" Theodore mumbled, eyes sliding shut as feet thundered up the steps.

"Good night Theodore"


	31. Granny Olga & the Misunderstanding

**_23 November 1963_ **

Diego wasn't quite sure what had happened. One moment he had been trying to crawl his way down a federal hallway to reach his overpowered sister, then he had been sprinting across grass and concrete to tackle the mysterious umbrella-wielding man from the grassy knoll in Dealey Plaza as Kennedy's motorcade had rounded the corner only to have his plan thwarted by his ever conniving father. Next he'd been hounded for his 'stupidity' by an irate Five before being dragged off to a small park were throngs of people had gathered before the shots rang out, only to find his serpentine nephew coiled up like rope. And finally after all of that, he'd arrived alongside his squabbling family members to find Theodore yelling at another teen in the alley behind Commerce and Knox. And that didn't even take into account the trip that was his drugging, kidnapping & subsequent employment at the Temps Commission. All in all it had been a confusing day.

Now, the remnants of the Umbrella Academy and the two…Garde(?) lounged about the abandoned building as they tried to come up with a new plan on how to get home without being murdered by the remaining Swedes (Allison had vividly described the encounter and death of the assassin that had taken place the day before) or the gill-trimmed aliens hunting the kids. Five had cracked out the complex math equations and probability maps that quickly began to drown the room he'd claimed. Klaus had claimed a bottle or two of alcohol before retreating to the bedroom that Diego and Lila had used earlier in the week.

Allison and Vanya had both given into their maternal instincts (recently discovered or otherwise) and gone to make sure that the children were okay. Yugi, their newest addition, had all but hissed at Allison's attempt to get close like a frightened cat. As for Vanya, she had crept over to the slumbering Theodore who had claimed one of the couches as his own. With gentle and cautious movements, she had slipped beneath his head and spent most of the morning just quietly braiding and unbraiding his hair, fiddling with the stone beads decorating his neck, humming some tune he recognised from some old Christmas ad and just really revelling in the touch of her son. Allison had joined not too soon after with a couple of bottles of nail polish that she had mysteriously procured from the depths of her purse and set about painting their nephew's toes in a multitude of colours.

Luther had tried to busy himself with completing the household chores—cooking, cleaning, basically just mothering them as their newest addition watched them all from the kitchen table with red-rimmed eagle-eyes. Eyes, mind you, that would follow them around like magnets but completely brush over Theodore as if he wasn't there. Diego almost wanted to say that it was fear hidden in those sharp eyes, but if it was there then it was overshadowed by the obvious grief and bitter jealousy. In turn, Diego had spent most of the morning glued to the television just watching the constant news casts of Kennedy's assassination on repeat until Allison had threatened to Rumour him again.

But that still didn't tell him why he was standing on this porch, glaring at the wooden grain of the painted door like it had offended him with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands. The fairy tale cottage in suburban East Dallas in which they stood wasn't anything spectacular or outrageous, it was just another building that was identical to the rest of the houses in the street. Next to him stood his ape of a brother in a similar position and Five impatiently hurrying them along like wayward children.

Five had insisted—read: ordered—that both Luther and Diego go and apologise to the poor little old lady they'd threatened down the landline earlier in the week after discovering Elliot's dead body and the message written in blood on the floor. Luther had been all for the idea, if only because the guilt written across his apish face was clear as day after being reminded about the incident in question. Diego, on the other hand, had been against if only because he'd have much rather spent the day listening to news casts and radio shows—anything really—that relayed the aftermath of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Vanya had asked why he was torturing himself because apparently he was just that easy to read— _"…Like a book written for very dumb children"—_ but he'd brushed her off. What would she know? Up until a couple of hours ago, she couldn't even remember any of them or what she had done for them to end up in Dallas at all.

**_KNOCK KNOCK!_ **

Five's impatient banging on the door brought Diego out of his thoughts just in time for him to hear the sound of hurried shuffling and bitter mutters on the other side of the door. When the door did eventually creak open, it peeled back to reveal a wrinkled woman garbed in layers of earthen fur and brightly beaming floral prints. Her long ruffled skirt barely graced the tops of her ankles, the just barely brushing the tops of her bedazzled slippers. The grey fur trimmed hat matched that of the fur-lined trench coat that almost seemed to swallow her weathered frame. Olga Foroga was nothing like what Diego had pictured her to be and despite her grandmotherly appearance, there was just… _something_ about her that gave Diego the sense she could—and would—kick their asses if given the chance.

"…Yes dearie?" Croaked Olga peering over the rim of coke bottle glasses and through the screen door separating them.

"Hi" Five began shortly, stuffing his hands into his pockets in the perfect image of innocent schoolboy as he stood at the front of their little awkward trio. "My brothers here" He gestured to them with a nod of his head. "Wanted to apologise for the misunderstanding earlier this week"

"Misunderstanding?" Olga clicked open the screen door when she saw that none of them meant her any harm.

"With the wrong number?" Five pursued.

"Ah…" Olga stood up straight at that, reaching for something hidden behind the door before coming back out with a rifle shoved in their faces.

"Whoa! Hey! Hey!" Diego jumped backwards in surprise, hands (and flowers) shoved up into the air. Out of the corner of his eye he noted that Luther had tripped over his big feet and landed on his ass down on the cobbled path; whilst Five had only tensed, hands falling from their pockets.

Unlike when Elliot had confronted Diego and Five with a rifle after getting the Frankel footage developed, Diego was unsure whether or not taking on Olga was a good idea. Not because he thought they couldn't take her—she was just a little old lady—but because he was more concerned about whether or not they might accidentally hurt her in the process. They had enough issues to deal with and they didn't need to add a maimed granny to that list. "They're just flowers! They're just flowers!" Luther tried as he slowly climbed to his feet, using to porch as leverage and wincing when it groaned under his weight.

"Hmm" Olga hummed derisively, snatching the offered bouquet from Luther with her free hand and inspected it like she expected something else to be hidden inside. Diego could've sworn that he saw Five preen from the corner of his eye at the action, as if he was proud that this strange woman was so paranoid.

Upon finding nothing untoward about the flowers, she slung the rifle over her shoulder and gestured for them to come inside. Honestly, Diego felt a little like he was living out _Hansel & Gretel _as Five none-so-gently dragged them inside after the old woman. At some point he'd shoved his own flowers at the old woman with a muttered apology as they were directed into a lacy-littered sitting room where a small box television remained on, prattling out some daytime soap opera. Whilst Olga shuffled off to the kitchen promising water for the flowers and tea & biscuits for the boys, the Hargreeves three spent the time snooping about the place.

Correction, _Diego_ spent the brief window snooping about as Luther cautiously perched himself on the edge of the floral-patterned couch that was encased in a plastic cover. And Five lounged languidly in one of the matching armchairs, looking right at home despite it all. Aside from the cooling kettle and empty tea cup on the coffee table, a couple of armchairs were littered about the sitting room with the focal point being the TV. An old radiator sat in the corner of the room and a bursting bookcase held everything from books on both World Wars to family pictures painted in sepia and little porcelain figurines.

Just as he had carefully replaced one of the creepy figurines back on the shelf, the harsh sound of a news caster cutting through whatever heartfelt moment had been playing out in the soap opera, caught his attention. _"…We interrupt Love of Life_ _to bring you these latest headlines on Kennedy's assassination and the terrorists involved…"_

"Is that…?" Luther squinted at the TV as if that would help him to decipher the grainy image displayed there.

"Nice picture there, Big Boy" Diego chuckled as the TV showed Luther staring wide-eyed and shocked over the white picket-fence lining the grassy knoll of Dealey Plaza alongside an equally expressive Five.

"Oh, like yours is any better!" Luther retorted as Diego's Dallas mugshot flashed onto screen, making the man sullenly turn to resolutely stare out the window with a pout.

_"…If you have seen these people, please contact the number on the screen…"_

"Shut up, you imbeciles!" Five hissed, leaning forward in his seat as the headlines flashed across the screen, each new image showing snapshots of their family in Dallas.

 _"…Tune in at six o'clock_ _for further information…We now return to Love of Life"_

"We need to go. Now" Five jumped to his feet as the abrupt news cast eventually cut off, returning to the soap opera without much hassle.

* * *

 _"…Authorities are asking for help identifying several persons of interest at Dealey Plaza at the time of the assassination…"_ Diego, Five, Allison, Luther and Vanya all stood gathered around the four display televisions in the middle of the department store watching the six o'clock news alongside the rest of Dallas. It had taken a practical miracle for the three venturing Hargreeves to make it back to the store without being dobbed in by the public after the breaking news earlier that day. There had been a few others since then, mostly keeping the public up to date on the scenario and each time telling them to tune in at six for the full report.

Upon returning to the building, they had found Allison, Vanya and Theodore all watching the TVs already. Allison had claimed the stairs as her perch with Vanya standing directly in front of the screen. Theodore, in turn, was much happier to remain up on the second floor where he opted to lean over the railing and watch from there; allowing him to interact with both his family and the other teen who had taken the time to rummage through the kitchen like a racoon looking for food. Occasionally, Theodore would glance over his shoulder or murmur something to Yugi that Diego couldn't quite hear (it appeared the pair had made up somewhat whilst they were gone), but for the most part all eyes were glued to the screens.

 _"…The FBI believes they may have been acting in concert with the alleged shooter, Lee Harvey Oswald. Vanya Hargreeves, wanted in connection with the deaths of several FBI agents inside the federal building at Dealey Plaza…"_ The image shown of her was grainy at best, but it would be enough for the public to recognise her anyways. Vanya watched on grimly as her photo card was replaced with the next one: Diego.

_"…A Cuban exile known only as Diego who recently escaped from the Holbrook Sanitarium…"_

"Cuban?" Diego mused as his own mugshot was presented on national TV. "I hate that photo"

 _"…A bare-knuckle boxer with suspected Mafia ties and who fights under the alias: 'King Kong'…"_ "Tch" Here, Luther rolled his eyes at the newest image they had of him—another grainy photo depicting him next to known mobster, Jack Ruby.

_"…Allison Chestnut, a Negro radical responsible for instigating and organising the recent riots at Stadtler's lunch counter…"_

"Of course—!" Allison scoffed under her breath as she was shown with an equality placard in hand at one of the many protest movements she had attended over the years.

 _"…And finally Klaus, the controversial cult leader and known tax evader…"_ Here, the only image shown of Klaus was the god-like portrait that had become synonymous with him. _"…The FBI is asking the public to be on the lookout for this unidentified boy, who they believe is being held hostage by the suspected terrorist network…"_

"Well, it's true" Five hummed as the reporter showed an image of him staring wide-eyed over the picket fence (this time without Luther). "I do feel like I'm being held hostage most days"

 _"God!_ I hate that photo!" Diego pouted sourly, more annoyed that that was the one they went with, than anything else.

"They're saying I instigated the riots?" Allison scoffed from the stairs, "That's unbelievable!"

"Look, the good news is that we restored the timeline and we stopped doomsday. So—" Luther tried to half-heartedly lift their spirits.

"—Yeah, a bunch of real _goddamn_ heroes" Diego interjected, "We let Kennedy die"

"Yeah" Allison agreed, "And now we're officially the most wanted people in the world—"

"—And not in a good way—"

"—The FBI is after us, the Dallas Police, Secret Service, whoever Theo's alien hunters are. It's only a matter of time before they hunt us down here too"

"Well, where are we s'posed to go?" Vanya questioned as Klaus prodded tiredly down the stairs, slipping on a single black vest which he left hanging open.

"I have this yurt just outside of Reykjavik" Klaus proposed, "We could totally lay low there. Folks there are a little weird, but lovely, welcoming—"

"—Hey numbnuts!" Five called, "Hiding's not gonna make a difference here. The Commission will hunt us down _wherever_ and _whenever_ we go"

"He's right" Diego agreed, "They'll never stop"

"…I'm sorry, since when are you the _expert_ on the Commission?"

"Since I got back from there"

"What?"

"Yeah, they headhunted me, offered me a job. Full time benefits, which I had to turn down"

"They headhunted _you?_ The _village idiot?"_

"What? Am I not allowed to be headhunted? Only the almighty Five needs to be in demand?"

"Diego, you're not Commission material—Theodore, _maybe—"_

"—You keep my son out of this!" Vanya hissed as she and the others rolled their eyes at the familiar bickering between the two brothers.

"—But not _you"_ Five steamrolled on, his tone patronising. "All right? Got an obstinate nature to ya"

"Who do you think it was that figured out _Vanya_ was the one that causes doomsday and stopped it? _Me"_ Diego retorted, unable to help himself.

"Hey!" Klaus protested, but was summarily ignored.

"That's who. _I_ figured it all out on the Infinite Switchboard!"

 _"You_ were on the Infinite Switchboard?" Five perked up at that.

"Hell yeah! I made that machine my _bitch!_ Y'all need to recognise I got shit going on y'all don't even _know_ about!"

"Oh, sorry. _You've_ got things going on?" Allison snorted.

"This isn't helpful" Luther shut down, physically cutting off any further fights by walking through the gathered Hargreeves.

"Look!" Diego marched on, intent to show his siblings that he knew what he was talking about—that he wasn't just talking out of his ass like Luther liked to do. "I met the _Résistance_ in their secret lair. All right? I went through orientation, and I passed and _I stopped doomsday._ Which is _far more_ than you can say"

"Listen here you—"

"—Hey look!" Klaus chuckled, pointing towards the TV that was still prattling on behind them. "Even Teddy made the news too!"

Rolling his eyes at Klaus' attempts to break up the impending argument, Diego barely spared a glimpse at the screen where he saw the serpentine form of their nephew on full display and he felt like his heart had jumped into his throat. With the way the Theodore had been describing these alien hunters over the last few days, something like this would certainly draw their attention—not to mention whatever the Temps Commission had hiding up their sleeves. _"…In other news…"_ The voiceover that was heard sounded far more upbeat than it had a few minutes ago when describing the so-called terrorists to the public. _"…It seems that even Dallas' most elusive myth wanted to see the arrival of President Kennedy today…Several witnesses report seeing the Dallas Dragon up close and personal in Houston park today, just south of Dealey Plaza…"_ The camera footage was shaky and the standard black and white, but it was undeniably their nephew surrounded by throngs of beaming people. Shit.


	32. Should We Stay or Should We Go?

**_24 November 1962_ **

Following the national news broadcast denoting the elder Hargreeves as a suspicious terrorist group, they had spent most of the evening trying to come up with plans to circumvent their inevitable doom—both apocalyptic and alien. Let's just say, dinner had been tense. But today was a new day—a new day, and ripe for Yugi and Theodore to slip out into the nether whilst the rest of them slept. The packed bag which Theodore had plucked from where it had sat at his feet was pretty typical for the era (more of a military-style kaki knapsack than anything he was used to) and was filled with canned goods, a change of clothes and what cash he'd managed to nick from his relatives' pockets early that morning.

This time 'round, there was no last meal with his family members (you couldn't really call leftover jello salad and eggs a meal) nor any chance of a spanner being thrown in the works that would prevent him from leaving. It was almost surreal, really. As Yugi shifted impatiently next to the front door with narrowed eyes and teeth grit in barely contained frustration at Theodore's stalling, the boy in question cast one final glance over his dozing family where they lay scattered about the old department store.

From his mother and Auntie Allison who had ended up top-and-tailing on the larger couch in which he had spent most of the day before conked out on. A small smile quirked at his lips as he watched his aunt's painted toenails twitch closer towards his mother's snoring mouth where they had tucked themselves into the small crook between the violinist and the couch cushion. Mama was practically suckling on them as she clung to Auntie Allison's legs like a teddy bear with her own legs crooked towards his aunt's armpit. Honestly if he didn't know any better, he'd have said the two had fallen asleep wrestling each other.

Moving on from the two women, his gaze then drifted over to his comically large uncle who sat squashed into one of the armchairs across from the two girls. A woollen blanket had been draped across his legs at some point, but even then Uncle Luther's legs poked out from beneath it as they hung over the arm of the chair. Uncle Luther could've easily asked for the couch in which the two women slept or used the other smaller couch, but had been either far too gentlemanly or stubborn to do so. Even so, the way in which the undercarriage of the armchair hovered a mere millimetre above the ground and the bulging seams was very amusing.

Peering into the kitchen found Uncle Diego situated at the kitchen table with his feet propped up on the table (something which both Auntie Allison and Uncle Five had berated him for countless times) and head tipped back to rest on the wallpapered window behind him. The occasional whistling snore would escape from his parted lips and brushed against the hair flopped over his eyes. The noise alone made it hard enough for Theodore to not burst out laughing whenever he heard it—it sounded like someone was abusing a squeaky dog toy, that tapered off every now and then before rearing its head in the most violent manner.

Further into the kitchen lay Uncle Klaus whose upper half had somehow become slumped _inside_ the fridge like he'd been looking for something to eat before succumbing to sleep. A couple of empty crystalline bottles with the last dregs of their liquids lay around him, the corks battered and bruised by his feet like extra toes. Theodore wasn't sure if he should be worried about him getting frostbite (was the fridge even strong enough for that?) from falling asleep inside the cold unit, or not. Part of him recalled the drunken story from earlier in the week about meeting God and how She had hated him with a passion, all but kicking him back to life because She didn't want him in the afterlife with Her. One thing that Theodore did note was that upon returning to Elliot's place, the consistent buzzing that the young man had come to associate with said uncle was long gone leaving things eerily silent around him. It unnerved him slightly, if he was being honest. Did that mean Uncle Ben was truly gone? Or just missing? Was there even such a thing as missing ghosts?

With a heavy sigh and a silent goodbye, Theodore finally began to make his way downstairs and over to where Yugi was impatiently clenching and unclenching his fists around the straps of his own bag. "Finally!" Yugi hissed impatiently through clenched teeth as he did his best not to rouse the others. "Let's _go!"_

"Yeah, yeah" Theodore whispered back, waving an absent hand as he brushed off the teen's impatience, sparing one final glance at his smallest uncle who had fallen asleep in the oddest position on the foyer's floor with his face smushed into the pale linoleum and ass in the air, surrounded by mountains of muddy calculations and empty coffee mugs. Even the jug lay nestled amongst the layers of his Umbrella Academy blazer not too far away; blanketed by several sheets of paper that covered the blood-stained floor. And hadn't that been a kick to the guts? Learning that the Swedes had turned up at some point whilst they had been gone and brutally murdered the building's owner; leaving only a bloody message painted on the floor for them. It was the reason why Uncle Five had shooed both Uncles Diego and Luther off to apologise to some little old lady that they'd terrorised over the phone—something about a wrong number and mistranslation.

The second and final silent goodbye had barely fallen from Theodore's twitching lips (twitching at the harmonious snores that echoed about the cavernous place) when he tripped over his own feet in the rush to ease Yugi's frustrated glares in his direction. The hissed curse and subsequent jostling of furniture ripped through the silence as he quickly caught himself against the nearby TV stand he'd bumped into. Sucking in a pained breath, Theodore glanced up from his undoubtedly bruised shin to see Yugi glaring at him with murderous intent and the sounds of his relatives shifting in their sleep echoed down. "Sorry—!" Theodore hissed as he straightened up and absently rubbed at his sore knee.

"Wha—?" Snorted Uncle Five as he jerked awake at the noise, head jolting from the floor and taking several drool-stained papers with him. Theodore winced; knowing things had just got a whole lot more complicated.

Just like the time before and when he was a child, Theodore knew that remaining with his family was no longer an option; no matter how painful leaving was, it had to be done. Even if he didn't have an antsy teenager shifting in the doorway like a caged animal, he knew that he would have to leave sooner rather than later. The broadcasting of his appearance in the plaza had been troubling, of course, but was, in the end, unavoidable. Which also meant that the subsequent arrival of their enemies was also unavoidable; meaning he _had_ to leave. He'd stayed too long in one place anyhow and it was a wonder, now that he thought about it, how he hadn't been captured already. Sure, he may have slain a fair few of the Mogadorians and time travelling assassins in the past, but that didn't mean he knew what he was doing nor how to do it. More often than not, he felt like he was flying by the seat of his pants (metaphorically of course, as he _did_ spend a good portion of his years in Dallas running around nude or close to it).

However logical this reasoning for their departure was, he knew it would sound flimsy at best to his time travelling—schoolboy assassin of an uncle who was currently eyeing the pair of Garde expectantly and with open curiosity. Yugi, needless to say, was glaring right back at the schoolboy with eyes full of defiance and teeth grit in aggravation from his place in the doorway. His silent message was clear. Theodore on the other hand, had frozen like a deer in the headlights with wide eyes and hunched shoulders staring at his uncle as if doing so would make him invisible. It was only the smallest flicker of his scales as they shifted agitatedly that gave any indication as to whether or not he was still breathing.

Thankfully the noise seemed to have completely bypassed the others as they snored the early morning hours away. "Theodore?" Uncle Five questioned hoarsely, bed hair lain askew like he'd been dragged backwards through a hedge and rumpled shirt poking out from beneath his equally crumpled sweater vest. "What're you doing?"

"Er…" Theodore blanked, unable to think of anything to say in the face of sudden confrontation. Words had never really been his strong suit anyway. Thankfully, Yugi the _ever-helpful,_ stepped in.

"What are you waiting for?" Yugi demanded impatiently, his tone rising slightly in his aggravation. "We need to _go!"_

"Go?" Uncle Five perked up as he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it somewhat "Go where?"

"Um… nowhere?" Theodore tried, trailing off sheepishly at Uncle Five's look of disbelief.

"Uh huh" His tone clearly stated that he didn't believe him. But it wasn't like Theodore was King of the Lies; just of keeping his mouth shut.

"C'me _on,_ 2419! We have to _go!"_ Yugi hissed again. "The Mogs could be here any second!"

"You're running away?" Uncle Five deadpanned as everything instantly clicked into place. Theodore winced at the sound of disappointment in his voice.

"What?" Yugi snapped before Theodore could reply. "You think that the Mogs didn't see that shit from yesterday? I wouldn't be surprised if they're camped outside right now!"

"The Commission's already on our asses" Uncle Five directed his retort more towards his nephew who had unfrozen somewhat and was shifting in place like he didn't know which way to go. Though the words were directed towards Theodore, Uncle Five's narrowed eyes remained glued on Yugi who defiantly returned the gesture. "Hiding's gonna do you no good now"

"Yeah right, like I'm worried about those tvnex!" Yugi laughed sarcastically.

Theodore's eyes snapped up towards the gallery where the others remained sleeping, hoping against hope that Yugi's increase in volume hadn't alerted them. Really, the only two that he was worried about was Auntie Allison & Mama and the whole biological/motherly alarm clock that went off whenever a loud noise sounded. It had certainly made sneaking out harder when he was younger. Thankfully though, he was able to breathe easier when all that emerged was muffled mumbles about brains and snorting snores as they tossed & turned in their make-shift beds.

"…The Mogs make your little clockwork cronies look like younglings playing pretend!" Yugi sneered at Uncle Five, emerging from the doorway a little as Theodore returned to the conversation at hand. _"You_ don't stand a chance!"

"What makes you so sure?" Uncle Five retorted, looking affronted at the Garde's thinly veiled threats.

 _"We_ didn't stand a chance with the _hordes_ of Garde back then, what makes _you_ think we'll stand a chance now, huh? What makes _you_ think a washed up bunch of has-been _superheroes_ can do _anything?"_

 _"You_ can't run forever" Uncle Five replied in much the same manner with hands clenched in the pockets of his shorts. By this point, his uncle's attention was solely on Yugi and the pair were practically snarling at each other like circling predators. "They'll find you and if not them, then the Commission"

"Not if we're off-world" Yugi retorted smugly.

"What?" Theodore's head snapped over towards the teen so fast he felt his neck cringe with whiplash; brows furrowed in confusion. This was news to him. "You found a working shuttle?"

"Something like that…" Yugi replied vaguely, not quite meeting Theodore's eye.

"Yugi?"

"It's not important"

"Seems pretty important to me"

"Whatever—look we've got _to go. Now"_

"Are you even listening to me?" Uncle Five interjected once more, eyes flitting back and forth between the two Garde.

"…Do they really not know?" Yugi turned to Theodore, this time his own brows knitted in confusion as it seemed to dawn on him just how little the Hargreeves understood of the Garde's situation.

"Just the basics" Theodore shrugged, diverting his eyes to the floor as Uncle Five's gaze turned to him. "If that"

"Geez…" Yugi sighed with a roll of his eyes and hand running through ginger locks. "Y'know that'll get 'em killed, right? It's a wonder they're not dead already"

"Probably 'cause they're annoyingly stubborn" Theodore replied with a small grin pulling at his lips.

Uncle Five, who up until this point had been relatively satisfied with watching the pair of Garde like cats watching tennis with narrowed calculating eyes and lips pursed into a thin line, spoke up once more. "Are you _really_ going to _abandon_ Vanya, _again_ Theodore?" Uncle Five spoke purposefully picking the words he knew would hit home. As petty as it was, the schoolboy assassin would do anything— _anything—_ to keep his family together. Even murder; which he'd also done.

"I—I—" Theodore stuttered as his eyes flitted up towards the gallery where his mother lay sleeping, clearly conflicted about leaving. He knew that his indecision was written in his eyes, knew that his loralite scales were flittering in agitation over his indecision. It was clear to anyone who looked how he wanted nothing more than to stay, but knew he had to go for their safety just as much as his own.

"Don't you care about your own _mother?"_

"But she's _not_ his real mother" Yugi intercepted, watching the expressions on his fellow Garde shift back and forth like a seesaw. "Remember? _You're_ not even his family! You—!"

 _"—Stop it!_ Just stop it!" Theodore eventually cried when it all became too much. The television he'd bumped into earlier formed a crack down its screen at his words, making the other two snap towards the piece of furniture at the action. But Theodore ignored them as he thread anxious fingers into his hair as he shuffled over to the display armchair and plopped down. "I—I just—just stop…Just make 'em stop!"

If Theodore had glanced up at that point or even dared to flick his eyes over to the blank television in front of him, then he would've seen his uncle spare a satisfied smug smirk in Yugi's direction like the cat that got the cream, as he got the result he wanted. In turn, the Human Garde would've seen Yugi bare his teeth in a silent snarl not too dissimilar from an angered beast which had Uncle Five tensing for a fight. As it was, the only thing Theodore heard from the other two was the retort that fell from Yugi's lips as he angrily stomped across the room and into a small alcove which led into the dust-lined boarded display windows at the front of the store.

* * *

It was closer to midday when everyone had eventually roused themselves and prepped for the day ahead. At some point, Uncle Diego had commandeered the televisions once more (despite Auntie Allison's warnings to turn them off) and Theodore thanked his lucky stars that Uncle Five had been too preoccupied with his calculations to bring up this morning's attempted departure to the others or himself. Although, he had been watching his nephew like a hawk as if to make sure he didn't make a run for it whilst he wasn't looking. Honestly, Theodore was just glad that Mama didn't know about the incident; he wasn't sure how he would be able to handle the outcome of that. Would she hate him again? More? They seemed to be walking along a precarious edge ever since the events of the days previous. Whatever had happened to her had certainly stirred things up, and for him too if he'd ever admit it.

"…At least _I_ wasn't playing with myself—" Uncle Diego sneered at Uncle Five, more than happy to resume the argument from the day before about the Commission. Apparently one day at the time travelling HQ qualified Uncle Diego as an expert. Or so he said. Uncle Five disagreed. Wholeheartedly. Theodore was just happy to remain tucked away in the crook of the stairwell with one arm hooked around the railing as he watched on. Watching the argument play out also gave him a good excuse to hide away from Yugi's and Uncle Five's piercing stares which had followed him wherever he went.

"—Can you dispense with the dick-measuring for five minutes?" Auntie Allison sighed as she clung to the only cup of coffee she's managed to steal from beneath Uncle Five's nose. He'd been fiercely protecting the pot like a dragon over its golden hoard.

"Unless you can literally, 'cause Ben and I—" Uncle Klaus cheerily added his two cents before being cut off.

"—We don't have time for this" Uncle Luther interjected as he shifted in place, eyes roving over his family members save for Mama who had disappeared upstairs to make a call. "The Feds could be here any minute"

"That's what I've been saying!" Auntie replied indignantly.

"I'm agreeing!"

"Okay, calm down, Hairy—" Uncle Five sassed.

"—Hey, it's _King Kong_ , and I'm sick of your ass, okay?"

 _"Yeah,_ okay, you win"

"Guys, we _need_ to move, okay?" At that, Theodore noted Uncle Five's side-eye, no doubt mind returning to the earlier incident. "That is _more_ important here, that is our _only_ option"

"No, we _need_ to box up those windows—" Uncle Diego fired back. "—And _stay_ here—!"

"—I'm leaving" Mama announced, the words leaving her lips before she had even fallen from the last step.

"What?" Theodore perked up, mindless of his relations' reactions. Sure, he knew that eventually _he'd_ have to leave, but for what reason did his mother have to go?

 _"Well, maybe if you shut up for once"_ Loren grumbled, just about as agitated in their indecision to stay or go. _"She'll tell you. Listen to your mother, youngling"_

 _I'm not that young!_ Theodore pouted.

_"You are to me"_

_We're the same age._

_"Age means nothing in the face of wisdom"_

_Quoting Pittacus to me? Really? Since when were you such a blörvig?_

_"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"_

"…Cissy's farm. Something's wrong with Harlan—" Mama replied urgently, shifting in place.

 _Harlan?_ Theodore mouthed, trying to place the name to the face but nothing was coming up. Was this the new family that she had mentioned earlier?

"—And I need to help him"

"Vanya, we need to stick together, okay?" Uncle Luther stepped forth. "Now more than ever"

"That's why I'm telling you this. Whatever's going on with Harlan, I think I might've caused it"

"How?" Uncle Diego asked.

"…He drowned, and, uh, somehow I was able to bring him back to life. And now it's like we're connected"

"Wh—what does that mean?" Theodore stammered, a part of him—a bitter, petty part—feeling like he was being replaced. Another part of him wondered if the Mogs might think him one of the Garde and go after him. It wouldn't be the first time.

"I—I don't know" Mama implored, "I can't explain it, but I know that he needs my help…I need your help too. I'm scared and for the first time in my life, I don't wanna do it alone. I want my family by my side"

 _Oh, so now we're family?_ Theodore looked away bitterly, chewing at his lower lip as the seed of jealousy grew.

 _"Monkey, you still call her 'mother', so it's not like you can talk!"_ Loren pointed out as if they were talking to a youngling.

_That's not the point!_

_"You're not a youngling anymore! Quit acting like it!"_

_But I thought—_

_"—You think? Ooh, dangerous past-time that!"_

_Oh ha ha! You come up with that yourself? How long did it take you this time?_

_"Better?"_

_…Maybe…_

"Look, I'm sorry" Uncle Diego shuffled forward, breaking through the awkward silence which had descended upon the building following Mama's little speech. "We have other priorities right now"

"Diego's right, for once" Uncle Five agreed solemnly from where he had sunken back against the railing, looking about as apologetic as Theodore had ever seen him. He did look genuinely sorry. "We need to make our stand here and now"

"…Teddy?" Mama implored, her pleading eyes drifting over each of the Hargreeves in an attempt to persuaded them. Theodore felt his heat stutter when the big brown eyes turned to him.

"U-uh…I—I—um—" Theodore stuttered over his suddenly heavy tongue and dry throat. Luckily (or unlucky depending on your view) for him Yugi chose that moment to intercept once more.

"You _can't_ be serious!" Yugi snarled, leaping from the display window at the end of the room and strode down towards the Hargreeves with a look of utter thunder. "Did you _conveniently_ forget about the _Mogadorians_ already on our asses, _you dorvik,_ and you want to throw this—this youngling into the mix?! Are you insane?! We _have_ to go. NOW!"

"C'me on, Yugi" Theodore sighed as he rose to his feet and all eyes flittered between the two Garde. "If what Mama says is true, then the Mogs'll think that he's one of us and you _know_ what that means"

 _"Fuck that!"_ Yugi threw his arms about as if to punctuate his displeasure at the situation. It seemed the Garde were due for a renewal of their alleyway argument. "WHAT HAVE THESE FLÖRFS _EVER_ DONE FOR US?! HUH?! THEY HANDED US OVER FOR COIN AND GLORY WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT! THAT'S WHAT! I _REFUSE_ TO GO BACK IN THAT FUCKING CAGE! YOU HEAR ME?!"

"You and I _both_ know where we'll go, Yugi" Theodore sighed, slightly irritated at the assault thrown at his face as he came to stand in front of the teen with hands lying limply at his sides. Almost subconsciously, the young man placed himself between the Loric and the humans, knowing full-well what kind of damage—accidental or otherwise—could come from an upset Garde. "And it's _not_ back into that cage"

Theodore could feel the inquisitive gazes of the elder Hargreeves burning into his back and he tried his best not to shift beneath them, no matter how uncomfortable he felt. He knew that his scales were forever click-clacking against each other as they moved about. The worst one was Mama's stare that was more concerned than anything else and somehow that was the one that bothered him the most. But he did his best to keep his eyes resolutely locked on the snarling ginger before him.

"WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT HISE KELTOR PLANET SO MUCH?!" Yugi shouted into his face—quite literally—as he moved in close enough that the two were almost nose-to-nose. Theodore cringed at the spittle that flew from the teen's mouth and hit him on the cheek—he could feel the sludge sliding down over his scales like thick slime—and he felt the vein on his neck twitch as his own irritation was kicked up a notch.

"BECAUSE I'M ONE OF THE KLETOS WHO LIVES ON IT—!" Theodore shouted back, pettily vindictive when his own spit landed on Yugi's chin.

"—Alright, that's enough!" Uncle Luther stepped in, physically pulling the two apart as animalistic growls fell from the Gardes' lips like strays in the street. It was only as Theodore was picked up like a sack of flour and moved back upstairs that he heard his mother's quiet resignation.

"Okay, I guess…I'll see you when I see you"

* * *

In the end, it didn't take long for the remaining Hargreeves to come to a decision. Something, in hindsight, which was easily helped along by Yugi's declaration that Theodore was a lost cause and had decided to high-tail it out of there as soon as Mama had slammed the door closed on them. Not that Theodore really expected any different; Yugi had been chomping at the bit for some time and whatever grief (however well-founded) he was still holding onto from Kiran's death had caused him to go (a little) off the rails. A new environment with new people and new circumstances; well, it would drive anyone insane and if he compared it to how well he'd first acclimated to family-life with Mama…well, Yugi was faring much better than he had in the beginning.

Uncle Klaus had been the first to leave—after having changed into what he deemed as 'mission gear'—soon followed by Uncle Diego and Auntie Allison (each dressed in black clothes). Uncle Five went next, dragging Theodore along by the collar of the peacoat that Grandfather had gotten for him as he shoved a pair of borrowed sunglasses over his scale-peppered face. Honestly, the only reason he'd worn the coat and sunnies was in a poor attempt to hide his scales so as to not frighten the Cooper family…and to hide from any watching Mogs.

"Five, you—you don't have to—" Mama protested as Uncle Five pulled open the passenger's door and leaned down to speak to her.

"—I know. You owe me one, sis" Uncle Five smiled sweetly before turning to Uncle Klaus, "Children sit in the back"

"Teddy?" Mama peered around Uncle Klaus's ass as he scrambled over the back of the seat and wedged himself between Auntie Allison and Uncle Diego much to their chagrin.

"Road trip!" Theodore cheered weakly as Uncle Five slid in to take Uncle Klaus' place and the young man slipped into the window seat. "Nobody better fart!"

"Guys, I don't know what to say…" Mama smiled as Uncle Luther popped the trunk and slunk inside with a shrieking squeak of hinges and metal as the lower half of the car sank to the ground.

"If anyone makes a fat joke, I'm outta here" Uncle Luther forewarned and then they were off, tail pipe sparking down the street and leaving a trail of fireworks in their wake. Subtly really wasn't in the Hargreeves' dictionary.


	33. Cissy Cooper had a Farm

The trip to the Cooper's farm was filled with much the same tension that had been present during the last time the Hargreeves had taken an impromptu road trip. Of course, this time they weren't rushing to find Auntie Allison out in the mysterious cabin of one Harold Jenkins. Nor had they had they known of Mama's dormant powers or her homicidal boyfriend; or even the subsequent death of planet Earth, itself. Still, there was some of that tension here, most of it circling around Uncle Five whose leg continued to jiggle up and down as they went. Occasionally Uncle Luther would shift around in the trunk causing the ass of the car to scrape further along the road, making it hard for Mama to drive. Thankfully they had made it out to the backroads by then, allowing them to breathe a little and appear less like the clown car they were pretending to be.

At some point Uncle Klaus had plucked a cracked book on self-enlightenment from the depths of his coat and was doing his best to read it even through all the rocking motions and sudden jerks of the car; whilst Auntie peppered Mama with questions about the Coopers. If Theodore hadn't known any better, he would've thought that they were going to tea with Coopers—to meet the other family, so to speak—with the way the questions were going. Things like: how'd you meet? What're they like? He almost expected for the 60s housewife to be standing on her doorstep with child and scones in hand with the way the conversation was going. But that didn't help the little seed of bitterness that curled up in his gut.

Theodore had spent almost five years on his own in Dallas. Five years without his family—Garde or otherwise—only to find out that his mother had been playing house with the Coopers for weeks like nothing was amiss. Of course, there was the whole amnesia-thing, but that was still partially his fault and it only served to twist the metaphorical knife deeper as he resolutely stared out of the window, watching the rows upon rows of crops saw by. Tucking himself further into the upturned collar of his peacoat, Theodore physically shrunk away from those thoughts as his sour expression mirrored back at him in the passenger's window and they swung around another dirt corner, sending gravel flying and pecking at the windows.

Soon enough the station wagon pulled into the Cooper's drive—the snow-covered, wintry drive—which was easily blanketed by the roaring tornado which had erupted from the frosty barn like a warning. "Holy hell…" Auntie Allison breathed as she leant forward and Mama brought the car to park not far from the entrance of the barn. It's not like Theodore could blame her; much like the rest of his family (save for Mama who appeared rather grim) he was gaping open-mouthed at the spectacle before him like it was something out of the movies.

 _"_ _Well, if the Mogs didn't think he was Garde before…"_ Loren trailed off, equally as gobsmacked.

… _They do now._ Theodore ended as he climbed from the car, doing his best to hide behind the wide-lens sunglasses and peacoat collar even with the wind wildly buffering at them and the sizzling energy crackled through the air like lightning.

"You think whatever's going on inside is causing the cold front?" Uncle Diego asked as they all exited from the station wagon like clowns from a car.

"Well, the correlation _is_ high" Uncle Five replied as a blonde gun-wielding woman suddenly burst from the side of the barn like someone possessed.

"Cissy! Cissy!" Mama cried, throwing her hands up in surrender as she quickly placed herself between the woman and her family.

"Get back!" Cissy warned, cocking the gun. Not that it would do much against the Hargreeves, but having a gun pointed in your face is never fun. "All of you! Just get the hell back!"

"Cissy! Hey! Hey! What's wrong?"

"…Carl"

"What did he do to you?"

"H—he's…he's dead" Cissy breathed shakily, physically tossing the words from her mouth as sweaty hands twisted around the barrel of the rifle still pointed at the Hargreeves.

 _"_ _Carl? Wasn't that the dorvik your mother was going on about?"_ Loren mused curiously.

 _I…think so?_ Theodore bit his lip in thought, as the name rang some sort of bell. Whatever it was, he wasn't quite sure whether to feel upset about the news or not. Not appeared to be the prevailing answer.

"Harlan tossed him aside like a rag doll" Cissy continued, "Same way you sent those policemen flyin' What did you do to him?"

"No—" Mama shook her head in disbelief.

"—What the _hell_ did you do to my son?!"

There was a beat of silence as all present seemed to hold their breaths. Mama appeared to be trying to sort through all the information that had just been flung at them. Theodore shifted in place, clenching and unclenching the hands he had hidden inside the long sleeves of his coat; whether in an effort to wave off the sudden cold or the thick tension, he wasn't quite sure. But sure enough, he didn't have to wait long as Uncle Diego broke through impatiently. "We don't have time for this" He sighed, beginning to make his way over to the barn. He barely got two paces closer before the rifle was pointed at him.

"Where d you think you're going?" Cissy demanded, eyes narrowed and white knuckles clenching around the firearm.

"To help your son" Uncle Diego tried to placate, hand coming up like he was trying to tame a wild animal.

"Look, Cissy, I found my family" Mama interjected, moving in front of her siblings once more as the attention was drawn back to her. Theodore may have been wary of the gun-wielding woman, but some part of him recognised that she wouldn't shoot Mama, if only because the whole time they had been talking the rifle had never once been pointed at the small brunette. "These are my brothers, sister and son"

"…Ma'am" Uncle Luther waved shyly.

"Were you lyin' to me the whole time?" Cissy despaired as she lowered the gun.

"Of course not" Mama replied sincerely as she crept slowly closer. "Look, I didn't know who I was. But I do now and we're not the monster that they say we are. We did not kill the president. We are not terrorists, we're not here to hurt anyone"

"Then…who are you?" Cissy eyed them warily, still not quite trusting the Hargreeves. "If you're not a Cuban exile, a Mafia fighter, a Negro radicalist, a cult leader, a KGB agent and two kids, then who the hell are you?"

"The only ones who can help Harlan"

"Helpers don't usually hide themselves" Cissy then turned her eyes over to Theodore who had was the only one who had remained closer to the car than the others. "

Theodore spared a glance with Mama, silently questioning if he should reveal himself to the blonde in front of them. Even when his mother nodded her assent, he felt like his heart had jumped into his throat and he tried his hardest not to let his hands shake as he moved forward. Mogadorians he could handle, Grandfather's tests he could handle even his family's questioning stares, but to reveal what he had spent so long hiding? Sure, he may not have cared for his state of dress (or lack thereof) but that didn't mean the Garde enjoyed being the center of attention. Much the opposite, in fact.

"Because" Theodore replied quietly as he shuffled over to stand next to his mother, carefully placing the sunglasses atop his head and pulling the collar down to lie flat enough to present the glittering loralite scales which peppered his cold skin."This tends to freak people out"

"Dear God…" Cissy breathed as her hold on the loosened even further and her eyes roved over the blue scales which moved which each breath the boy took. Theodore shifted under her gaze, refusing to look her in the eyes, even though he could feel her burning ones on him.

 _"_ _Please_ let us help him" Mama implored once more. _"Please_ let me help Harlan"

Cissy eventually buckled beneath the multiple eyes, need to protect her son and the want to give him the help he so seriously needed. Standing in the doorway of the snowy barn, Theodore watched with wide eyes as the others pushed their way inside, doing their best to stay upright despite the immense amount of power the boy was emitting. "Harlan?" Mama called up to the boy suspended in midair. "Harlan, it's Vanya!"

"Ah!" Harlan gasped, the noise only just barely heard above the roar of power.

"Look Harlan, I know you're really scared but I can help you. I need you to listen to me, okay? Can you do that?"

"Ngh!"

"Careful—!" Uncle Five warned as Mama's eyes ignited in white and she pushed her way through the wall of power separating them from Harlan.

* * *

Theodore wasn't sure how long they'd been standing in the barn just watching his mother try to calm the boy down when a small whirring pop caught his attention, pulling him from the doorway of the barn and around the other side. Fearing that the Mogadorians had found them already—how could they not with the spectacle on display for them?—he made his way passed sleet-covered hay bales and icy tires with snow crunching underfoot until two women became clear on the horizon. The scent of vanilla and tobacco pulled at his senses and some hazy drunken memory came to mind that featured both women, himself and Uncle Five in the old warehouse off of Maine street where the homeless ventured during the winter.

"Er…Uncle?" Theodore called over his shoulder as his gaze remained on the two women, head cocked to the side in curiosity.

"Why yes, my littlest Teddy bear?" Uncle Klaus sang, having been the one to answer his generic query. Theodore scrunched up his nose at the childish nickname.

"There's someone here…"

"Guys…?" Uncle Klaus turned to his siblings, calling them over as Theodore crept closer, ever curious about the pair.

"What?" Uncle Diego snapped, a little irritatedly at his brother's interruption (not that Uncle Diego was doing much to begin with). But that still didn't stop them all from crowding around the window "Ah shit"

"What? Who're they?" Uncle Klaus pursued.

"One's the Handler, the other's Diego's girlfriend" Uncle Five explained.

"Lila" Uncle Diego corrected as the conversation floated over the quiet fields and Theodore crept closer to the pair. "That's my _ex-girlfriend"_

 _"_ _What?"_ Uncle Klaus sounded scandalised that he hadn't heard that little tidbit earlier.

"Y'know what? Doesn't matter" Uncle Luther dismissed, "They both look angry"

"Yeah" Auntie Allison agreed, "Our brother has that affect on people"

"What's Teddy doing?" Uncle Klaus' question was the last that Theodore heard as he finally rounded on the two women.

The scent of vanilla and tobacco, he soon found, came from the elder woman Uncle Five had labelled as the Handler. Dressed in a black trench coat that appeared almost reptilian-like in its adorning scales, red ascot & matching boots, matching Garde pendants and a spider fascinator that all together gave off the air of a predator as well as a well to-do woman. Next to her, the younger woman whom he could only assume was Lila was simply garbed in a black leather jacket and figure-fitting jeans. But even as this all ran through his head, Theodore was far more focused on the rather familiar pair of Garde pendants hung around her neck like trophies.

"Beautiful aren't they?" The Handler purred as Theodore quietly bent forward to pick up the jewellery, running his thumb over the worn and blood-stained grooves ingrained there. Even through all of the muck, Theodore was able to discern the House symbol and Loric name written beneath. It made his pulse quicken, his heart drop: he was holding Kiran & Yugi's pendants. Pendants, mind you, that the Loric Garde _refused_ to remove as their last sole trace of their homeland. It was the one thing that the Mogadorians couldn't take from them—the one thing that was solely theirs. And this—this _woman_ was wearing them like war trophies.

"You have no right—" Theodore snarled, teeth bared as his hand began to burn from the heat in which the pendant emitted. There _was_ a reason why the Mogadorians—or anyone for that matter—couldn't remove the pendants from them; it quite literally pained them to do so. He'd never known the pendants to react to a non-Garde's will however.

"—Oh honey, I have _every right"_ The Handler purred, running a single manicured nail down his cheek as Theodore was forced to let the pendant go. "Just as every employer takes care of their employees"

"Em—employer? No—no, they wouldn't—the Mogs—"

"Ah yes, the Mogadorians, they _have_ been rather annoying to outmanoeuvre, but who doesn't love a challenge?"

"Not that that did 'em any good!" Lila laughed patronisingly, catching Theodore's attention. "All that training and they were still taken out by a stray bullet. Which is weird considering what you can do"

"But remember dear" The Handler piper up, "Not all Garde are the same. Young Theodore here, is just one of the few Students that can heal exponentially well; so unlike Agents Kiran and Yugi. It's pity really, after I went through all that trouble of razing that place"

"You—you were—?"

"—All thanks to that little tidbit you so _generously_ provided earlier. And my! Look at you now! All grown up!"

"You—!" Theodore growled low in his throat, rumbling through him as his scales flared in warning and he moved to lunge with claws outstretched.

Numb, though he may have been at the sudden reveal of Kiran & Yugi's employment under the Handler, he was just as equally enraged about her blasé attitude towards their culture. However, before he could even get that far both Uncles Diego and Five appeared at his side, hands wrapping around his forearms and manhandled him back into place as they physically took over the situation with a look that promised they'd bee talking about this later.

Theodore stumbled over his own feet as he retreated within himself, sending a final glare towards Lila who was smirking like the cat that caught the canary. So many thoughts whirled around inside his head, making it hard for him to see straight. _The Handler had been there? During our escape from School? From the Ragnor-Ra Mogs? From the Headmaster? From all of it? She had been their saviour?_ How twisted was that? To know that the Temps Commission had had their hands in the pie far longer than he had ever expected.

"I just _love_ that smell of fresh country air, don't you darling?" The Handler chuckled in greeting as the two men pulled up on either side of their numb nephew.

"Makes me want to vomit" Lila replied dryly, snakelike eyes snapping briefly towards Uncle Diego before narrowing in on Uncle Five.

Theodore, whose head remained bowed and despondent gaze was glued to the shiny red boots in front of him. He heard more than saw what was going on around him like he was listening from underwater. The hands on his arms remained there as if to keep him upright or to drag him away at a moment's notice, he wasn't sure.

"What do you want?" Uncle Five demanded, shoulders tense as he shared a glance with Uncle Diego over Theodore's bowed head.

"To watch you suffer"

"What about me?" Uncle Diego queried.

"You're not even worth my wrath"

"Easy" The Handler warned, cutting off the impending squabble before it could begin. "We're here on official business"

"And what business is that?" Uncle Five pursued. The Handler's lips pursed into a not-quite smile that looked like she'd smelt something rancid.

"As the Head of the Commission, I've decided to eliminate the criminals responsible for the assassination of the former Board of Directors"

"Yeah right" Uncle Diego chuckled, "We didn't kill the Board"

"Uh, actually Diego…" Uncle Five shifted nervously as Theodore's head rose at the admission, pulled out of his numb state with a bout of curiosity. It was one of the few moments when Uncle Five actually acted like the thirteen years old that he appeared to be. "That's not entirely accurate"

"You didn't tell them" The Handler purred, to which Uncle Five just shrugged sheepishly. _"Oh,_ _Five"_

"Five, what the hell did you do?" Uncle Diego muttered.

"What I _had_ to, to get my family home. Until _somebody_ reneged on our deal"

 _"_ _Somebody_ wouldn't have reneged if _somebody_ could've met a simple deadline. Alas—"

"—You set me up to fail!"

"You set yourself up to fail, friend, you and your family. Kinda the running theme of your little life, isn't it?"

"Dude!" Uncle Diego leant around Theodore to snap at Uncle Five, "I can't believe you killed the Board of the Directors! You have _no_ idea how messed up the Commission is right now!"

"Messed up?" The Handler interjected. "Who's saying that?"

"Everybody! Christ! Even the janitors think it's going to shit!" Uncle Diego laughed darkly as something beyond the women caught Theodore's attention.

Far off in the treeline that bordered the property something glinted in the daylight, something that pulled at his primordial instincts and chilled him to his core. It was a feeling that he'd come to associate with being hunted. It was the feeling of prey realising that they were no longer safe—that the predator had found them and there was no way out. Theodore may have fought against the Mogadorians and their chimaera time and time again, but that didn't mean he knew what he was doing nor that he was unafraid of what he faced each time they appeared. Blue eyes narrowed as he peered around the Handler & Lila, trying his best not to let his heart jump out of his throat where it had currently lodged itself.

"…Don't play dumb you prepubescent piece of shit!" Lila snarked, pulling Theodore back to the conversation at hand, briefly catching the curious gaze of the Handler before it morphed into something a little more exasperated.

"Enough" The Handler cut in, placing her large briefcase on the grass at their feet. "The point is, all of you are going to die today. Hm?"

"Oh, well, I don't like your chances" Uncle Diego sassed, making Theodore internally wince at the jinx he was sure his uncle was about to place on them. "Eight of us, two of you"

"Y'know, you're right" The Handler purred with a snap of her fingers. "Let's change that"


	34. Attack of the Drones

"Er…" Theodore blinked dumbly at the hordes of Temps Commission agents—both masked & unmasked—blinking into existence behind the Handler. Flashes of blue illuminated the frosty field as they just kept coming; hundreds upon thousands of highly trained assassins all little carbon copies of his Uncle Five (or close to it if Uncle's boasting was to be believed) filled the fields to the brim, like toy soldiers all lined up in neat little rows. "I don't know if I should feel honoured or not that you brought that many people here for us…"

Firearms were cocked an aimed at the Hargreeves with deadly accuracy, the Handler baring a schadenfreude smirk upon her rogue lips that mirrored the obvious distaste present on Lila's who remained standing stoically next to her. In turn, all Hargreeves present suddenly found themselves faced with a _much_ larger army than they had been expecting. In the past, they had only ever encountered one or two agents at a time and now they were being dropped into the deep end and expected to swim…or drown in this case. Either side of him, both Uncles Diego and Five nervously eyed the sea of smartly-dressed assassins with panic clear on their faces. Theodore, however, was far more concerned with creeping chimaera prowling from the furtherest woods. Even from this far away he could see how each muscle bulged and twitched with each careful step, how ears twitched and whiskers brushed against cornstalks as if they were nothing more than weeds.

"So…" Uncle Diego drawled lowly, leaning towards Uncle Five as if doing so would make their conversation all that more private. "What do we do now?"

"Well, we got two choices" Uncle Five replied as he fidgeted in place. "Fight & die now or run & die later. Either way, we're food for worms"

"Preference?"

"Wouldn't mind a few more minutes breathing air through the old windbags"

"All right—"

"—Let's get this over with, shall we?" The Handler interjected, delicately plucking a red scarf from the depths of her pocket and holding it aloft for all to see. Eyes blew wide at the action and both uncles stumbled back from the women, intent on savouring their last few moments of breath. The Handler quirked an eyebrow at Theodore's decision to remain standing where he was and she opened her mouth to comment on it, just as Uncle Diego had circled back to yank him away. But Theodore paid none of them any mind as his attention was solely locked on the pair of chimaeras now quickly bounding towards them. If he had to hazard a guess, one had once taken on the form of a canine whilst the other was that of a reptile.

The ground rumbled and roiled underfoot sending many scrambling for some kind of balance as the two beasts swiftly approached with fangs bared and monstrous claws ploughing through the dirt like a thousands hoes. Loralite scales flared and rippled in agitation as his heart felt like it was about to burst through his chest with all of its jackhammering and he stupidly tried to buy time even as the first of the outreaching agents were trampled underfoot like they were nothing more than ants. "Quick question before we die" Theodore hurriedly spat out as his eyes flickered back and forth between the beasts and the two women before him.

"Hm? Yes, what is it?" The Handler hummed impatiently, fingers twitching around the scarf still held aloft.

"Do you consider yourself an animal person?" He shifted in place, turning slightly as if to run as his fingers twitched nervously at his sides.

"What the hell is that thing doing here…?" Uncle Diego breathed from behind him, wide eyes easily identifying the beasts from their last encounter at the Icarus Theatre. He was thankfully, however, ignored.

"You're about to die and that's the all important question you _absolutely have_ to ask?" Lila scoffed derisively, crossing her arms.

"I'm afraid I don't understand the question" The Handler replied, in turn ignoring her daughter's comment as she dug in her heels to remain upright. Theodore suspected that she had done so quite literally, stabbing the heels of her stilettos into the moist soil at their feet. Swiftly darting forward in an action that would forever haunt him in its stupidity for the rest of time, Theodore snatched the dangling pendants from the Handler's neck and yanked with all of his might, causing the blonde woman to stagger only slightly; something which appeared to irk her. But that was all he saw before he turned tail and ran, calling over his shoulder as he did so.

"YOU WILL!"

**_RAAAAAAAH!_ **

Theodore didn't wait to see what had happened behind him as he began to book it back towards the barn; but the sudden onslaught of gunfire, sounds of flesh being torn apart and the wide-eyed panic clearly written on his uncles' faces as he passed by told him all that he needed to know. RUN. With heart pounding in his chest Theodore heard more than felt as his scales spread across his skin with a crunch of each thundering foot against the ground as loralite met with snow. At some point his shoes had flung off to the side somewhere as he fleed, far more occupied with the sounds of pursing agents relentlessly firing on them without mercy.

Further up ahead, Auntie Allison, Uncle Luther & Uncle Klaus had retreated behind a couple of frozen troughs and hale bales, doing their best to shrink away from the incoming bullets as they rained down on them. Even as Theodore sprinted for the worn out tractor tires piled atop each other like a rubber snowman that lay between the hale bales, the old tractor and the barn, he could just hear the panicked cries of his other uncles over the gunfire, bloodthirsty chimaera and blood rushing through his ears. "We're not gonna make it!" Uncle Diego grunted. "What're you doing?"

**_WHOOSH!_ **

"Nngh!" Uncle Five grunted as he blinked both himself and his brother closer to the house.

"Eurgh!" Uncle Diego gagged, tripping over his own feet at the sudden feeling of displacement coursing through him. "Five, I think I'm gonna puke!"

"No time!" Uncle Five retorted as the pair tucked themselves behind the large wheels of the tractor just as Theodore dove behind the tires up ahead of them. Now that he was granted the world's smallest reprieve, Theodore slumped back against the sleet-covered rubber with a shaky sigh and closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears already sliding down over his loralite-peppered cheeks.

"S-sorry" Theodore whispered up into the air, not quite sure who he was talking to. The sudden revelation of Kiran and Yugi's previous employment at the Temps Commission had set his mind for a spin, warring hard against his heart who mourned for the loss of more Garde. It was almost sadder in that way, how Theodore was far more upset about the idea of more deceased Garde than that of the actual deaths themselves. It almost made the apologies worthless. "I'm—I'm sorry.…I'm _so_ sorry"

Bowing his head, shaky hands gripped tight to the pair of pendants now resting in his palms. Twin emblems of his House—of their House—stared back at him: the twisting knots of House Theron that lay above the runic lettering of each of their names. Kiran. Yugi. Two younglings taken long before they should have been—they'd come so far, survived so much; _it wasn't fair!_ Sniffing heartily, Theodore shakily slipped the pendants over his neck, letting the blood-stained chain rest against the nape of his neck. "I'm so sorry Yugi, Kiran, I'm sorry"

Blinking back the tears in his eyes, Theodore looked up just in time to see Uncle Five dash into the bullet-riddled house just as a wayward water truck ignited and spewed the voluminous fireball up into the air, easily melting away the small radius of snow surrounding the now melted vehicle. Sucking in a deep breath and wiping away the excess water in his eyes, Theodore peered around the side of the large tractor tires to find Uncle Diego still cowering behind the tractor in front of him. A little further on found the two chimaera far more preoccupied with the Temps Commission agents that they were ripping into and flinging about like chew toys. They hadn't evened the numbers by any means, but the sudden appearance of the two beasts had granted enough of a distraction that the agents had splits themselves into two groups: Hargreeves hunters & Chimaera slayers. "Why is it _always_ the chimaeras?!" Theodore cursed as he ducked back behind the tires, least he attain more than just the steady chipping away of loralite from his person.

 _"Oh, I'm sorry"_ Loren sassed haughtily. _"Would you rather the two giant monsters or a thousand tiny little ones?"_

"Er…can I—can I phone a friend?"

_"What friend? The dead ones?"_

"Well, what are my options? Stray bullet or wayward claw? Both sound pretty gross to be honest"

_"That's 'cause either one ends in death!"_

"Loren, can we even survive this? This is so much more than an asteroid or a hunting party! There's a whole army out there!"

_"A whole army just for little ole eight people, isn't that flattering?"_

"Loren!"

_"What? You calmed down didn't you?"_

"…"

_"Don't deny it, I'm in your head! Mwhahaha!"_

"All right, Mr Cartoon Villain, I get it, thanks"

Their little moment however was soon cut short as the agents drew in closer as evident by the bullets now focusing more sharply in on their positions. One assassin pair was bad enough, but now that there hordes of them? Just what kind of game were they playing? Even with the loralite littering his skin, Theodore shrunk down as much as he could in order to hide behind the bullet-riddled tires; which while thick offered very little proper protection against the weaponry. It wasn't until a high-pitched whining had him looking up from his arms that he found himself staring up at Mama like she was some kind of God-sent angel. Fully illuminated in white (not quite like she had been at the Icarus Theatre) and floating several feet up in the air as energy thrummed through the already static atmosphere.

A single white light shone from the centre of her chest as she stared down unwaveringly at the hordes of agents and pair of chimaera laid before her. Theodore had always known that his mother could hold her own—that she was a badass—but seeing her like this, like some kind of etherial entity only solidified these thoughts. "I'm _never_ back talking Mama _ever_ again…" Theodore murmured as he traced her path with wide eyes, going so far as to peer around the tire stack as she grew brighter and brighter with each thrum of energy until it was far too much to look at. Like looking straight at the sun, Theodore ducked back down behind the tire stack, falling into a turtle position with hands over the nape of his neck as an enormous shockwave ripped across the farmlands.

It seemed that Uncle Diego had truly cursed them, for when Theodore looked out into the now corpse-riddled field he found that both of the chimaeras (whilst further back) appeared to be unperturbed by their sudden displacement. Not only that but a singular bubble stood dead center where the Handler and Lila had been, not once moving from their places in the country soil. "What the hell…?" Theodore gaped, eyes sharpening in on the leather-clad woman as she rose into the air much in the same manner that Mama had done.

 _"Any chance she's Garde?"_ Loren suggested hopefully.

"Nope!" Theodore replied, shuffling back a step or two in the hopes that he could either outrun the attack now mirrored in the younger woman. Fear pricked at his heart, as he watched Lila ignite in a much brighter light and the high-pitched whining of culminating energies around her sounding like a swarm of angry hornets than the symphony Mama's had been. This was no longer a God-sent angel—no this was the face of an avenger and they were about to feel the full force of this scorned woman.

This time when the counterattack sounded, everyone—including Mama who remained airborne—was blasted backwards like long-forgotten rag dolls. The force of the blast was strong enough to lift them all from the feet and send them flying across different parts of the farmlands. Like dropping a stone in water, the Hargreeves were scatted across the Cooper's farm without much hassle: Uncle Luther crashed through the ceiling of the Cooper's home where Uncle Five remained hidden, Mama hit the barn wall, Auntie Allison became embedded in a trailer of hay, Uncle Klaus stopped mere meters from the ground caught presumably by one of the buzzing ghosts now nearby, Uncle Diego was caught under the tractor and Theodore flew clear across the canopies until he was dumped into a nearby lake.

The shock of the cold water barely registered as his breaths came in gasps from his sudden landing and the weight of his drenched clothes dragged him downwards. Despite the obvious lack of waves, Theodore was unable to tell which way was up or down and it was only due to Loren's quick control of his limbs that he was able to eventually haul himself up onto the soggy bank. Water expelled from his lungs with a cough and hack, retching the blasted liquid from his shivering body as he fought for consciousness in the snowy cove. The black spots danced across his vision like busy bees zooming from flower to flower and it didn't take long for his arms to give way, leaving him alone and unconscious on the bank of the Cooper's lake.


	35. Blink & You'll Miss Me

**_25 November 1963_ **

The last thing Five expected was for Luther to come flying in through the ceiling like a baseball through the window on a sunny afternoon. Actually that was a lie—he hadn't expected the sudden counter attack from Lila or whatever power(s) she appeared to hold. _Had she been able to do that the whole time?_ He wondered as he scrambled out from beneath the bullet-stricken kitchen table in which he had used for meager cover. A quick glance was cast over the eastern wall overlooking the fields which had been turned into Swiss cheese, before he hurried over to where his brother lay groaning in a mess on the living room floor. "Luther?" Five worried, picking his way through the shattered glass and ceiling rubble. "You all right?"

"Oh! I think I swallowed my tongue!" Luther rasped blearily.

"Luther, if you swallowed your tongue, you wouldn't be talking, you big moron"

"Oh…"

"C'me on, on your feet" Five helped haul his big brother to his feet, although it wasn't that much help considering the difference between the two brothers. It was like a fly trying to help a horse up. Thankfully, Luther had enough sense to stumble to his feet with what little help Five could provide.

"Hey, what the hell was that?" Luther coughed once he was properly upright. "What was that?"

"She must've redirected Vanya's energy wave" Five mused aloud, brushing the dust from his brother before he spared a glance out of the furtherest window where the two women had been only moments before.

"Yeah, I know, but how?"

 _How indeed._ Five chewed at his lip in thought, mind running at a million miles an hour as he tried to sort through what information had been presented to them. _Somehow_ Lila had redirected Vanya's energy wave back at them with enough force to send his family flying like toys, but not enough force to kill them instantaneously as Vanya's had done.

His musings were quickly cut short however when the sound of falling debris from up above them caught his attention. Panic settled in his gut as the image of his (once) deceased family littered the broken & burning ground of the first Apocalypse burnt into his eyelids, making him react on instinct."LUTHER! WATCH OUT!" Five snapped, shoving his brother out of the way just in time as the rubble hailed down and buried him deep beneath the brick and mortar of the crumbling fireplace.

"FIVE!" Luther called, his voice just as faint as the sound of rubble being moved about above Five. Five couldn't respond, far more preoccupied with the heavy weight crushing him against the ground and the black spots dancing at the edges of his vision—or was that the trickle of blood leaking into his eye?

"Hehe" Lila chuckled as she suddenly appeared in the living room to find Luther digging through the bricks and concrete laden at his feet.

"What the _hell_ are you?" Luther demanded, the floor beneath Five creaking and groaning as the blonde rose to his feet, making him wary of it giving way beneath him.

Dizzy and tired from being knocked about so much, Five waited amongst the brick and mortar knowing full well that he would likely hinder more than help in this situation (particularly with Lila gunning for him, for some currently unknown reason), despite how much it pained him to admit. For now he had to be content with just listening, until he could see straight, at the very least.

"Someone who wants to kill your brother" Lila replied nonchalantly.

"Well, that's understandable. Diego can be a lot to handle" Luther shrugged off the threat. Five grinned at the backhanded compliment.

"Yeah, I was talking about Five"

"…Him too" Luther acquiesced, making Five pout. "But unfortunately, they're family, so you're shit outta luck"

The following grunts and groans confused Five—they didn't sound feminine enough to be Lila's and there was no stereotypical thump that signalled the downing of their opponent, which meant that the baby assassin was giving his brother much more trouble than he was used to. "How…how is this possible?" Luther grunted out, backing up Five's thoughts.

"Gotta believe in yourself, big boy" Lila taunted before another explosion sounded, this time from across the room. From the tone of his sister's panicked shouts, Five could only assume that it was Luther who had destroyed even more of the Cooper's house.

Eventually when Five was able to open his eyes without feeling like he was going to vomit, he shakily pushed himself to his feet and knocked away the debris covering him in the process. Making his way over to the Luther-sized hole in the wall, Five found the panic prickling in his gut once more as he was faced with Allison in Luther's arms struggling to breathe and Lila laughing over the pair of them like it was the funniest thing in the world. There was panic there, but there was also protectiveness and rage bubbling beneath the surface like a furnace. No one—and he did mean _no one—_ got to treat his family like pieces of shit. That was his job, and it was fine, he silently justified, for him to do so since they were family. But not for this two-timing stranger.

"Looking for me?" Five smirked, eyes just as hard and cold as his tone. Lila's reaction was instantaneous. Gone was the laughter and smirk, instead replaced with cold hard fury and soaring bloodlust.

"You little turd" Lila spat, eyes narrowed.

"Let's dance!" He called before blinking away with her hot on his heels. Disappearing further into the house, both Lila and Five fell into tangle of flying punches, swinging kicks and blinking bodies. It almost looked like they were dancing as the two traded blows.

"Careful now!" Lila sang, blinking out of Five's hold and up onto the messy kitchen counter where she fiddled aimlessly with the discarded frying pan next to her. "Or you are going to tire yourself out!"

"How are you doing this?" Five demanded.

"Oh anything you can do" Lila smiled, twirling the frying pan once more. "I can do better"

"Heh" Five scoffed as both assassins blinked out of the bullet-riddled kitchen and out into the upper levels of the cold barn. The Coopers must've moved earlier as Five noted the absence of the overpowered boy and his mother. That was all he was able to note before he was met head on with the frying pan and a heeled boot shoved into his throat.

 _This seems familiar._ Five mused absently as he tried his best to keep Lila from crushing his larynx in.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?" Lila taunted, putting all of her weight onto his shaking hands.

"Eat shit…and die!" Five gasped in a rather raspy tone. Each word hurt to spit out, but it was worth it just to watch his inferior sour at the comment even if she did push down harder. At least that was until he shoved back. Locking his arms, he pushed Lila away from him with as much might as he possibly manage and rolled over to suck in lungfuls of sweet air just as the two scrambled to their feet once more, the Commission conditioning telling them the fight wasn't over until it only one was left standing. "C'me on!" Five sneered as he fell back into fighting stance with both fists raised and ready to fly. "What're you waiting for? Let's finish this thing!"

"No" Lila refused, setting her shoulders back as she stared him down. "This isn't gonna be quick. You're going to suffer for what you did"

"Lady, I got no idea what you're talkin' about" Five scoffed derisively as he tried to hide the curiosity that was pricking at his mind due to her constant accusations.

"Ronnie and Anita Gill" Lila shuffled closer with both hands clenched into fists at her sides. In turn, Five's own hands had dropped from their fighting stance, instead falling into something a little more open but no less relaxed.

"Mean nothing to me" Five retorted, warily eyeing the young woman before him.

"1993, East London. _You_ hog-tied them and _you_ shot them in the head" Lila steamrolled on, unperturbed by his comments.

"…The flower merchants" Five murmured as the job in question came to mind; he could still hear their weak pleading cries for mercy. Could still see the broken apartment and blood splattered skirting boards. "They were your parents?"

"And they never did anything to anyone. They didn't deserve to die like that—!"

"—You're right, all right?" Five hastily replied, his voice soft as Lila's cracked with each word she spoke. He couldn't blame—look at what he done to protect his own family. "I killed them—but I killed a lot of people over the years. It was just a job, all right? That was never personal"

 _"Never personal'_ my ass!" Lila chuckled darkly, "Yeah, I've killed and it's _always_ been personal"

"That's why you're not cut out to be an assassin" Five shook his head.

"Bet your life on that?" Lila snarled drawing a knife from her boot and lunged for Five who quickly backpedalled.

"You wanna blame someone?" Five rushed out, raising his arms as if to calm a cornered animal. Which wasn't that far off, honestly; rage and vengeance did odd things to a person. "Blame the Handler, all right? She faked the kill order"

 _"Bullshit!"_ Lila snarled, "I saw the kill order: _AJ Carmichael_ ordered it and _you_ carried it out!"

"Lila, listen to what I'm telling you, all right?" Five tried again, feeling very much like he was trying to talk sense into a young petulant child. He did feel a little bad about crushing her view of her adoptive mother however; not because of who the Handler was to her but because of the pain and utter grief gleaming in her eyes."The Handler gave me the kill order. She came on the job, which she'd _never_ done before. You're Commission, you know the execs _never_ go on jobs. But that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself _why"_

"Stop trying to muddy the waters!" Lila snapped defiantly, although a little weaker than before. Five saw that she was starting to see sense and so kept going, kept ripping off the bandaid.

"I never realised what was up to at the time, but…now it all makes sense"

"What…?"

"She never cared about your parents, she was looking for _you"_

"Why?"

"Cause you're one of us" Diego interjected coming into the barn behind them, bring the rest of the Hargreeves with him.

Five's gaze roved over each of his siblings as he did a quick head count and made sure that they were all more or less intact. Diego was limping slightly and Vanya's hand kept straying to her shoulder as if it hurt, but otherwise they were more or less okay—a little worse of wears, but okay. He couldn't see Theodore however, but none of his siblings bore looks of panic or worry about this which made him wonder. But not for long.

**_ROOOOAR!_ **

**_RAAAAAAH!_ **

The twin roars that echoed across the farmlands somewhat told Five where his nephew currently lay, and what he was doing. If the animalistic growls were anything to go by, Five could only presume that he was taking care of the two monstrous beasts that had appeared earlier and had begun to devour the outer most reaches of the Commission agents, thinning their numbers if only a little. Apparently the two opposing energy attacks hadn't done much to deter them. A quick glimpse out of the door, passed Luther's shoulder showed a tangle of giant blue limbs and meaty muscles tumbling across the lawn like snarling pups fighting over territory.

"The Handler stole you, Lila" Diego continued, piecing together what Five had been trying to tell her this whole time. "Just like out asshole father took all of us"

"No, it's not the same thing" Lila denied, suddenly on guard with knife raised in defence as she became surrounded by the seven original Hargreeves.

"You're right because _he_ didn't have our parents _murdered._ Listen to me, Lila, you were born 1 October 1989, the same day as all of us—"

"—Stay back!" She swung the blade wildly, trying to clear some space around her.

"Hey! Hey, stop! Wait—wait! Hey!" Diego jumped away as their siblings fanned out further around the girl, all of them wary and battle ready.

"Lila? Lila, stop—"

"—I trusted you! I got a job, I even introduced you to my _mother!_ And then you just took off on me!"

"Because I needed to save the world!" Diego fired back making Five roll his eyes at the sudden domestic turn the situation had taken. "She's using you, Lila, the Handler"

"You're wrong" Lila refuted weakly, "She raised me, she loves me"

"Yeah, y'know what?" Luther interjected from across the room, "Love shouldn't have to hurt this much"

"…Eurgh!" Lila stuck out her tongue in reply, fake gagging at the sentimentality displayed by the big oaf.

"All right, I tried"

"He's right" Five spoke up as he closed in again. "We have to kill her"

 _"Hey!_ Five! Five, stop! I got it _"_ Diego snapped, pulling his smallest brother up short with a roll of his eyes. "Hey, Lila, the truth? She's dangerous and you're scared of what she'll do with all that new power. _That's_ why you dragged me to the Commission—"

 _I knew it! 'Headhunted', my ass!_ Five grinned internally in petty vindictiveness.

"—Because I know what's it like to love dangerous people. Difference is…" Diego suddenly paused, eyes roving each and everyone of his siblings individually, who silently responded to the sappy confession in different ways. Both Klaus and Allison looked like they wanted to hug him, Vanya looked happy to be recognised as family and Luther puffed his chest up in pride whilst Five softened only slightly. Diego was only a breath away from Lila by this point, if she wanted to the blade in her hand could easily lodge itself in him and there would be little he could do about it. "…They love me back—"

"Shut up!" Lila raised the knife threateningly once more.

"—The only thing _she_ loves is power. Now the minute she can't use you, she _will_ turn on you and deep down I _know_ you know that"

"…You don't know me, Diego" Lila whispered.

"Don't I?" Diego took a step forward until the tip of the blade was pressed against his exposed clavicle. "I know that _we_ can be your family…if you just let us"

There was a beat of silence as Lila seemed to consider the offer, her glistening eyes roving over each of the Hargreeves who still circled her, although less aggressively than they had before. Something which would soon become a problem. Five only noticed because the farm had gone deathly still with a quiet that was almost deafening, like the calm before the storm. A sense of wrongness roiled within him and that was all the warning he got before the barn was lit up with rapid gunfire and a familiar piercing pain bloomed across his forehead before he hit the floor alongside his siblings.

"…It's true, isn't it?" Lila sniffled from where she had collapsed next to Diego's fresh corpse.

"Darling" The Handler cooed, "I need to know that we can get passed this and be a happy family again. Hm?"

"…They were my real family" Lila rose to her feet. "Did you even love me?"

"Mm" The Handler merely hummed, neither confirming nor denying the accusation before she raised her firearm and pulled the trigger, killing her surrogate daughter with a single flick of her finger. Not a single tear was shed. "Que será, será"

"Ngh!" Five groaned softly, trying to combat the pain in his head at least enough to get out and figure something out, but he couldn't move—couldn't do anything as the Handler strolled over to where he lay sprawled out.

"Oh good" The Handler chirped, "You're still alive, lucky you. You got to see how this all played out"

The Handler shoved the firearm into his face, taking great pleasure in the emotions flickering rapidly across Five's usually stoic face like a predator playing with their prey. At least that was until the Handler fell too, as more gunfire lit up the rickety barn and the last remaining Swede stepped inside. Bodies littered the ground like fallen leaves and with the barrel of the Swede's gun shoved into Five's face once more he found himself in retrospective state as flashes of the last few weeks flashed before his eyes.

From him telling his family that there was a way out of the burning world of the first Apocalypse as they stood surrounding the blue rock that was their nephew who had encased Vanya within his bejewelled arms, to Luther's accusations about scattering them across the Dallas timeline and their father's advise to time travel in seconds rather than decades. Familiar energy thrummed around him in his last ditch attempt to defy death again. It crackled and fizzed, enveloping him like a second skin as he tried to take baby steps—to rewind time by seconds and not decades as he had done previously. It was hard and it hurt like hell, but Five would do—had done anything for his family, and nothing would change as long as he had air in his lungs. This would work—it had to.


	36. Let's Get Ready to Rumble!

**_Meanwhile_ **

Wet and violently shivering, Theodore stumbled over his own feet as he made his way back to the main farmland, only getting lost once or twice before he eventually returned. Appearing more like a drowned rat, his clothes clung to him like a second skin and the two Garde pendants clanked gently against his chest as he stumbled through the wintry woods. Having regained consciousness only some moments prior, the young man felt lightheaded and slightly dizzy as he followed after Loren's directions, far more preoccupied with trying not to walk into a tree or pass out again. Soon enough, gravel gave way to snow and the young Garde's shivers grew tenfold as the cold from the lake combined with that of snow. He wouldn't be surprised if his lips were already turning blue with cold; he certainly felt like a walking icicle.

Following the voices of his family, Theodore made his way over to where Uncle Diego lay trapped beneath the upturned tractor that Uncles Luther and Klaus were trying to lift off of him, whilst Auntie Allison dug him out far enough that Mama could tug him free. "Are you out?" Uncle Luther groaned, straining to keep a hold of the sleet-covered vehicle.

"Yeah, yeah" Uncle Diego grunted, climbing to his feet as Theodore joined them. "Team Zero! All right!"

"Teddy!" Mama exclaimed upon catching sight of him and rushing over to envelop him in a tight hug after checking him over. "You're freezing! What happened?"

"L-l-l-anded in the l-l-lake" Theodore stammered as he sunk into her hug, trying to soak up as much heat from his mother as possible. "It's s-so cold!"

"Er, here…" Uncle Luther offered his outermost layer, a thick jacket which Theodore quickly slipped over his wet clothes and zipped up tight.

"Haha!" Uncle Klaus chuckled, noting the sudden length of the oversized jacket on his small frame. "You look like Jesus!"

"If Jesus was a drowned rat, maybe" Uncle Diego added jokingly as Theodore shrank into the warmth emanating from the large wool-lined jacket like a moray eel returning to its cove.

"Better?" Mama pursued.

"Mmhm" Theodore nodded, the tips of his loralite-laden ears glittering against the reflective snow.

"Okay, uh, has anyone seen Five?" Auntie Allison queried, looking about.

"I don't know, he's probably around here somewhere" Uncle Luther replied absently, now only clad in a large woollen turtleneck and several layers of flannel. He turned to Uncle Diego as something seemed to occur to him. "By the way, your ex-girlfriend can blink like Five"

"Yeah, that bitch just Rumoured me so I couldn't breathe"

"And destroyed, like, half the farm with a shock wave" Uncle Klaus added, sweeping a hand across the farmland as he spoke. "So unoriginal"

"If she can do everything we can" Mama ended, "She might as well just be one of us, right?"

"Yeah…"

"No…" All their expressions suddenly dropped as what Mama had mentioned off-handedly sank in.

"No, no there's no way" Uncle Luther refused weakly, "It can't be"

"It's a reasonable conclusion" Mama defended.

"Eh, but there were only seven of us" Uncle Klaus tried.

"Maybe we need to consider that there's more?"

"Are we really surprised?" Sighed Auntie Allison. "Dad never told us the whole truth about anything"

"He didn't mention anything to you, Theo?" Uncle Luther turned to their nephew, referring to the period in which he spent living with his grandfather.

"N-no" Theodore shook his head, "It was mostly just cognitive tests and examinations"

"But—but, she's not our—our _biological_ sister…right?" Uncle Diego hesitantly interjected, looking like the world had fallen out from beneath his feet. Everyone shared a confused look at the query, but mostly just brushed it off before they moved on. Although Theodore couldn't help but notice the parallels between Uncle Luther & Auntie Allison's sort-of incestual relationship and Uncle Diego and Lila's; that is, if she actually _was_ their sister.

"…Okay, so if she can mirror our powers, that means anything we throw at her, she can match, right?" Suggested Uncle Luther.

"Yeah, but she can only mirror one of our powers at a time" Uncle Klaus added.

"You sure about that?" Auntie questioned. "And what about Theo's powers? Could she mirror those?"

"Er…let's—let's not find out" Theodore replied, chewing at his lower lip as he shifted nervously in place and thought over what Lila could do with regenerative healing and loralite generation (to a small degree). It was clear to anyone with eyes and a working brain that Lila was just an extension of the Handler; just a tool—an (un)willing tool—but a tool nonetheless. He shuddered to think what would happen when the Handler no longer found her useful.

 _"Ted—Teddy!"_ Auntie hissed and drew Theodore from his thoughts.

"Hmm?" Theodore hummed, glancing up he came face-to-face with varying degrees of wide-eyed panic and fear. "What? What is it?"

"Don't—don't open your mouth!" Uncle Klaus warned, making Theodore's brows knit together in confusion at the warning.

"My mouth? What are you talking about?" His answer, in the end, came in the form of a _very_ large string of drool sliding down over his shoulder like slime. _"Eurgh! Gross!"_

 _"Is that drool?"_ Loren gagged.

"Yep, yuck!" Tracing the slobber up to the chimaera standing over him, Theodore could only feel disgusted at the warm breath wafting over him as the beast snarled challengingly, spittle flying. "Eurgh! G'way!"

Childishly swiping his arms up at the canine beast, the upturned tractor which had lain dormant for the most part, was suddenly picked up and its trajectory followed his hands, ultimately connecting with its hide. A pained yelp echoed out when the chimaera was pushed back just far enough that Theodore felt like he could breathe in fresh air once more. Of course, that did nothing to slow down the beast nor defeat it, so it was to no one's surprise that it quickly rose to its feet and charged once more. This time however, it seemed a little wary of Theodore, stopping only a few feet away instead of hanging over them as it had done before. Growling low in its throat, the chimaera bared its challenge to the small Garde with all the grace of a two-tonne beast.

It irked Theodore how annoyingly persistent the creature (and by extension, the Mogadorians) was in their pursuit of the Garde. A fact which seemed to outweigh the thump-thumping of his heart as it climbed its way up his throat when faced with such a creature. Chimaeras were a lot like wolves: fiercely loyal and obeyed a hierarchical status, something that severely helped Theodore in that instance. Just as he had done long ago in the junkyard back in 2019, Theodore opened his maw and let loose a counter roar that was deep enough to rattle the nearby farm equipment.

The guttural noise was absolutely _filled_ with all that he felt, all that he had to say and it made his reply that much stronger, echoing around the farmyard and easily drowning out the chimaeras challenge. Theodore could _feel_ every one of his scales flaring up as he instinctually tried to make himself appear bigger than he was, much like how a cat would fluff up its fur or a cobra would flare its hood. Like two alphas vying for dominance, the pair faced off, one challenge considerably louder and stronger than the other. Faintly Theodore noted Uncle Klaus cheering him on over the colourful cursing of his aunt and other uncles; a glimpse out of the corner of his eyes showed the man jumping up and down like a cheerleader or an over enthusiastic sports mother, but he paid them no mind.

Theodore's response seemed to drag on forever before the chimaera eventually backed down. Bowing to the Garde, the chimaera flopped into a more submissive pose, nose to the ground and tail between its legs. But that wasn't all. Almost as if the chimaera could understand what Theodore had been conveying in his call, the beast slowly began to decrease in size, shrinking down until only a small and confused Pomeranian remained in its place. With a sigh, Theodore rose from the crouch he had unconsciously fallen into, his scales taking their time to lay back down as he turned back to his family and tried (and failed) to wipe off the canine's drool still staining the jacket.

"Er…" Theodore blinked dumbly at the wide-eyed (white) stares, defensive stances and gaping open-mouths that faced him. "You were saying?"

"Oh-ho ho! You are _definitely_ Vanny's kid with lungs like that!" Uncle Klaus laughed as he bent to pick up the Pomeranian. "And who's this little guy?" He cooed, threading his fingers through the fluffy fur of the squirming canine.

"Uh—uh, that's a chimaera" Theodore stammered and tried to ignore how his mother's eyes had illuminated white with the force of his roar or how both of his uncles looked like they were about to shit themselves. "Shapeshifters—The Lorics use them as guards, the Mogs use them as hunters"

"Well, he doesn't look like a hunter, does he? Does he?" Uncle Klaus cooed, holding the cloud-like canine up to his face and squealed in delight when he received a lick to the tip of his nose for his efforts.

"So…" Auntie Allison asked, "Why isn't it trying to kill us now?"

"Uh, I think it thinks I'm its alpha now" Theodore replied, head tilted to the side in thought.

"Alpha?"

"Like a master, y'know? They're kinda like wolves that way. New alpha, new pack"

"Huh"

"And, uh, what about the other one?" Uncle Luther nodded towards something over his nephew's shoulder.

"What other one?" Theodore asked, almost whining at the thought of taking on _another_ chimaera.

**_RAAAAAH!_ **

_"Oh! That_ other one" Theodore turned to find the second chimaera charging for them once again. "Yeah, that one might need a bit more convincing. You, uh, you might wanna go see what Uncle Five is doing"

"No way! I'm not leaving you to handle that thing on your own!" Mama denied.

"But what about Harlan? And Uncle Five?" Theodore replied, watching the conflict war in his mother's eyes over who to help. "It's okay, Mama, I can do this"

"Can you even handle that thing?" Uncle Diego pursued, eyeing up the rapidly approaching beast warily.

"Yeah, sure, totally. Piece of cake…I think"

"Well, that's encouraging"

"I mean, I've done it before. What's one more, right?"

"If you're sure…?" Auntie ended concernedly.

"Yeah, yeah, just go make sure they're okay" Theodore shooed them off.

He remained standing there (after a stern "Stay alive" from his mother and a tight hug from both maternal figures) just watching as six elder Hargreeves and one Pomeranian hiked back towards the barn where the Coopers were before he turned to face the oncoming reptilian chimaera. "Alright, ugly, let's do this"

 _"Hope you're not talking about me"_ Loren sassed as Theodore shed Uncle Luther's jacket and hung it over one of the hale bales for safekeeping.

"You? Never?"

_"Ready?"_

"As I'll ever be. Let's go" And with that, the cold wet clothes fell away, ripping to rags as Theodore shifted from human to reptile in a manner of moments.

* * *

Squaring off against the second chimaera, Loren barely had a second to register that Theodore had retreated within their shared mind space, effectively going to sleep and handing the reins over to the loralite before the realisation of who the chimaera was, settled on them. One recently converted chimaera and another angry one? It wasn't hard to put two-and-two together. An almighty roar—one _much_ louder and stronger than the canine's—echoed across the plains. This must've been the canine's previous alpha, one who wasn't too happy about being dethroned by his Garde. But Loren was not one to back down, instead returning the roar with one of their own.

A beat of silence passed as the two sized each other up until some unseen signal was given and the two beasts charged at each other, colliding with the force of a wrecking ball on a warpath. The two flew at each, claws flying and maws chomping just trying to get a hold—any hold—on some wayward limb. Like two coils of muscular rope, they wrapped around each other rolling over the fields and leaving devastation in their wake. The ground cracked and corpses crumbled beneath the force of the two alien beasts rolling in the mud, fighting for dominance.

Unlike the elder Hargreeves' fighting styles—ones drilled into them from a young age—Loren's was far more feral, one born more from the necessity of survival than that of a student taught by a master. Which meant that no matter who skilled their brawl-styled fighting was, it easy to see that the reptilian chimaera had the upper hand in this fight, this fight that they were slowly losing. Loren scrambled for a hold—any hold—as he lay on his back struggling to break the pair apart if only so his vulnerable underbelly was no longer open to the enemy. Unlike the victory against the 2019 chimaera, there was no plan (however flimsy or half-baked) to play by nor a weakness for them to exploit and it frightened Loren, a feeling that was uncommon for the immovable rock.

A feeling, mind you, that was broadcasting across their shared mindscape. It really shouldn't have surprised the loralite when they felt Theodore push back, first with feelings of comfort & support and then against the barrier separating their two minds. The action made Loren pause, an action which would cost them. Fangs scraped against the side of their face, only barely just missing their eyes as Loren turned their head just in time, trying to fight against the beast above him and the determined human in their head. But it appeared to be a losing battle on both pushed his way through the barrier separating the two minds, his will far stronger than whatever warnings Loren was trying express.

"Well" Theodore hummed, his own swivelling eyes appearing just below Loren's on the tips of his rigid cheekbones. "This is new"

 _"I_ _told_ _you not to do that!"_ Loren scolded as they tried to release themselves from the stronghold the chimaera had them in.

"Yeah, but when have I ever listened to you? This is my body too! Let me help you!"

_"This isn't a joking matter, monkey!"_

"How about we talk about this when we're not about to be eaten?"

Taking the proverbial olive branch, Loren dug in their lower claws and found just enough of a purchase to throw the other reptile off of them. Hauling themselves up once more, this time panting hard with sides heaving, the loralite grit his teeth in irritation when he faced the circling chimaera once more. On odd raspy sound fell from its pearlescent lips as it glanced towards its belly where a few scales had managed to come free in their escape attempt. "Is it…laughing at us?" Theodore blinked.

 _"Yes"_ Loren growled, moving to engage the reptile again. But all the determination in the world (shared or otherwise) couldn't stop them from being flung around like a chew toy. Both Loren and Theodore let out a pained yowl when teeth dug into one of their legs, the scales falling away like flower petals to expose bare squishy flesh beneath. No longer the pure loralite they had once been, Loren was unable to fend off the enemy's attack like they might've once done. Blood weeped from the wound as they were flung away and pinned down beneath powerful jaws and claws.

"I'm sorry…" Theodore whimpered, the noise sounding akin to a wounded pup. "I just wanted to help"

 _"It's not your fault"_ Loren lied, as they fell limp in defeat. There was no getting out of this one. _"May the Gods watch over you"_

"And—and also with you" Theodore sniffled. Warm breath and flying spittle enveloped the two as death approached and their hearts beat like drums of war in their ears. Drums of war that had become drums of death. One pair of eyes squeezed shut, unwanting to watch the end whilst the other stared death defiantly in the face and then…Loren blinked. One moment they had been stuck in the (literal) jaws of death and the next they were back where they had been with the chimaera was seemingly laughing at them.

Their leg still hurt and Theodore was still rambling on about helping, but they were _alive._ Loren knew that whatever Theodore had done in pushing down the mental barriers between the two had only served half its purpose. They knew that if they stayed like this, they were going to die again. So with this in mind, Loren hopped closer to the chimaera, flexed his injured claw and completed the merge, giving himself over to the Human Garde. As one, they lunged upwards, snapping out a clawed hand out towards the laughing reptile and caught its lower jaw with sharpened nails.

A sick sense of satisfaction prickled in their gut as the appendage soared across the ground, thumping and rolling to a stop not too far away. The chimaera appeared surprised at the action, its eyes blown wide like it could believe what had just happened. The swift death that followed was merciful and quick; fangs locked around its jugular and with a quick jerk of their head, it was dead.

* * *

There was no mind splitting headache this time, no splitting of minds, no old man grumbling scolding him for his actions and it concerned him. "Loren?" Theodore called worriedly, standing naked and dirty amongst the remains of chimera dust and Commission agents. "Loren, are you there?" He shifted nervously as tears gathered in his eyes, frantically searching his mind for any sign of his long-time companion . "Loren? Please? I can't lose you too! I can't lose my best friend! Loren _please! Where are you? LOREN!"_

Down below amongst the spattering of blue scales and on the fringe of the Garde's cheekbones two cerulean eyes blinked open.


	37. Home Again, Home Again Jiggety-Jig

It was odd watching the Swede walk backwards out of the door, retracing the steps he had taken previously. To see the Handler unshoot her daughter & walk out the door, pools of blood retracting into the bodies they came from. Odder still was watching his fallen family rise from the brink of death, retracing their steps like someone had hit rewind on a recording. And then Five was standing unharmed in the barn's doorway as his siblings tried to convince Lila to change allegiances. Sparing a glance out of the door he saw the large reptilian form of his nephew swing a massive paw towards his opponent, absolutely radiating bloodlust and a little closer to home was the Handler preparing to cross the threshold of barn. Lunging forward, Five wrestled the firearm from his ex-employer and pinned her in place with her own weapon, much to her irritation.

"It's true, isn't it?" Lila quietly asked as the others turned to face the pair. "What Five said. Answer me! Is it true?"

"Well—hurk" The Handler began, rolling her eyes away from Five and over to her surrogate daughter with a tone that was sugar-sweet; a complete contrast from whatever she was clearly feeling. At least that was until the Swede appeared again and gunned her down.

"The case—!" Luther cried out as Lila made a dash for the briefcase the Handler had dropped to the ground in her struggle with Five.

"No—!" Diego tackled Luther to the ground, stopping his brother mere centimetres from reaching the girl and the case. Both disappeared with a whooshing flash of blue as the Swede stepped inside and Five found himself warily facing off against another of the Commission's top agents.

A beat passed as both parties eyed each other up, weapons cocked and finger hovering over the trigger, ready to attack at any moment. The minutes seemed to stretch on as the Swede and the schoolboy sized each other up; minutes the Hargreeves heroes spent shifting nervously and warily watching the new guy, until Five was the first to break the silence. "Enough" Five sighed with the finality of a tired old man, dropping his firearm to the ground in a show of good faith. At his feet he could see that Luther and Diego were looking at him like he'd lost his mind; although that could in part, be due to the firearm down next to their heads.

"…Tillräckligt" The Swede conceded, throwing his own firearm down next to Five's and sauntered out the door in a tiredness that only seemed to be shared by the schoolboy assassin.

"I almost had her" Luther whined, still pinning Diego to the floor. "Why the hell did you stop me?"

"Because" Diego grinned, "I love her"

"Who the hell was that guy?" Klaus exclaimed, a Pomeranian clutched under one arm (where the hell had he picked _that_ up?) as Luther rose to his feet and the last of their little family stumbled in through the door.

"Theo! Are you all right?" Allison exclaimed, brightening at the sight of their sooty nephew wrapped in Luther's large coat—it almost appeared to be drowning the young man—and baring a second pair of eyes along his cheekbones, hidden amongst the scales. Both women rushed over to make sure that the was okay; Vanya twisting his head this way and that whilst Allison patted him down like an airport officer.

"Huh? Yeah—yeah, I'm fine" Theodore shrugged, patiently waiting for his aunt and mother to finish checking him over. "I mean, I wouldn't mind some pants, but I'm fine"

"Are you—?" Allison suddenly backpedalled, hands up in the air as her question tapered off.

"—Yep" Theodore nodded, not needing to hear the rest of the question.

"You can borrow some of Carl's things" Vanya supplied, "He won't be needing them anymore, anyways"

"Uh—" Theodore blinked dumbfoundedly at the finality of his mother's tone.

"—VANYA! HELP!" Cissy's voice suddenly called from the lower levels of the barn, ripping Vanya away from her son.

"Harlan!"

Five and the others followed after Vanya into the lower half of the barn where they found Cissy and Harlan cooped up in one of the back corners. Harlan was still separated from them by a wall of power, only this time it had encompassed him like a bubble instead of the tornado they had first found him in. "Harlan? Harlan!" Vanya cried as she practically fell into the bubble, her own powers contracting whatever was going on with the frightened boy. "Whatever it is I gave you, I can take it back, okay? We just—we need to stop this"

"Mm~!" Harlan whimpered softly as the other Hargreeves gathered around to watch as Vanya gently placed her hands on Harlan's knees.

Five's eyes grew wide in surprise as he watched his sister—his sister who until two weeks ago, they'd only thought was ordinary—reabsorb the overwhelming power she had given to the Cooper boy. Next to him, Theodore winced at the high-pitched noise that resonated from the two as both their veins illuminated in an eerily alien glow; Five could actually _see_ the power retreat from the boy like it was being sucked out through a straw. At his feet Cissy prayed fervently for both her boy and her lover, eyes scrunched tight and cracked lips silently mouthing Psalms. And then, like that it was over with a small wave of energy disconnecting the two. Vanya was pushed backwards only so far, but otherwise left unharmed. Harlan on the other hand was far more alert than he had ever been, looking about with a rather confused expression and clearly wondering why he was down in the basement surrounded by a bunch of strangers. _"Oh_! Oh baby! Oh, my baby oh!" Cissy cried, rushing forth to pull her son close and Vanya looked back over her shoulder at them with the happiest and proudest smile Five had _ever_ seen her wear.

* * *

Sometime later after everyone and everything had calmed down, Theodore had borrowed a pair of brown slacks cuffed to the knee & cinched at the waist with a belt from Carl's wardrobe and a green flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows from his mother's. Currently, he was sat in Harlan's bedroom playing some sort of quiet pass-the-parcel with the boy, using a couple of scales which had painlessly fallen from him earlier. Harlan appeared rather fascinated by the items at hand and spent most of the time spinning them around in the air as he tested out the new residue powers that Mama had unknowingly left behind and providing Theodore with a good distraction against the gaping hole that was left behind in his head now that Loren was gone. Which was odd because although Loren was gone, the Loric knowledge and powers the loralite had once held had migrated to the Human Garde, confusing him even more.

In turn, the other Hargreeves had scattered themselves about property, just whittling away the hours as they put together plans and said their goodbyes. Both Uncles Five & Diego had gone outside to greet a pair of Temps Commission agents that they swore up and down were good people. Theodore had passed by the destroyed living room earlier to find Uncle Klaus leaning back against the couch, clutching tight to his dog tags and absently playing with 'Benny' the newly named Pomeranian. Uncle Luther & Auntie Allison had both sat at the wrecked kitchen table talking in hushed tones and mostly just stared out the window for the better part of the evening, leaving Mama who was the only one really moving about the place with purpose.

"Cissy?" Mama called her voice drawing nearer and only coming to a stop when she met the blonde in the doorway of Harlan's room where she had been watching the two boys play. "We gotta get Harlan packed. The sooner we leave, the safer it is for everyone, and we can figure out the next steps from there"

"…We can't go with you" Cissy sighed despondently.

"…Why not?" Mama despaired, sinking into the doorframe a little.

"T~o the future? Vanya, that's crazy talk! I mean, what would that even look like?"

"Well, we could be a family—I mean, just the four of us—we could have a whole life together" Mama tried, grasping Cissy's hands in her own.

"What about Harlan? What if something happens to him? And what if we're separated? I can't risk losing him" Cissy spared a glance towards her son once more.

"What if they, like blame you for Carl? Or—" Mama stammered.

"—Vanya" Cissy interrupted. "I _saw_ you. Outside the barn. I—I saw you fl—float"

"So, what? You're—you're scared of _me_ now? Is—is that what this is?" Mama trembled.

"No! No, no scared _for_ you!" Cissy leant forth to tenderly cup Mama's cheek. The conversation was clearly hard on both women, something immensely intimate that Theodore felt he shouldn't be watching, so he turned away and resolutely focused on the curious boy before him. But that didn't stop him from overhearing the conversation anyway.

"Tell me we could have a normal life there…" Cissy implored of Mama. "And no one would ever come after us for being with you like they did today"

"…I can't" Mama sniffled, her voice breaking.

"Vanya, I would do _anything_ for you. To protect you. But Harlan has been through enough. I can't—I can't put that child in any more danger, I can't. But you have given me the greatest gift of a lifetime—you let me feel _alive_ for the first time. You helped me find _hope_ again and that's a _wonderful_ thing"

"…Where will you go?" Mama sniffled.

"I'm not sure. Um…I have, um, uh, a friend in California?" Cissy replied although it sounded more like a question than an answer.

"You go there, and you live a beautiful & wonderful life"

"If you ever find a safe way back to me, you take it, you hear me?"

"Mmpff!" Harlan grunted, scrunching his nose up in disgust as he watched something over Theodore's shoulder. Glancing back Theodore was met with the sight of both their mothers full-on making out in the doorway to the bedroom and he shared the boy's sentiment. Not because he disliked the thought of his mother being happy, but because it was his _mother_ who was making out like a teenager. Turning back sharply, Theodore mirrored Harlan's expression sending the boy into a fit of giggles that had the airborne scale fluttering like butterflies and he smiled.

* * *

_Dearest Ray,_

_We should've known I'd find a way to get the last word in. The good news is we did it. The world is safe again, but the President is dead and I am long gone. I wish I could be with you right now, in your arms. But I don't belong in 1963, but my time here has changed me; it's changed all of us._

_I wish I could tell you it's gonna be easier from here, but it's not. It's going to get worse, before it gets better. So I need you to hold on. Keep faith because the fight for a better world is never over. And we all have our choices to make, and we have to live with the consequences before we find the right way home._

_I will never forget you nor our time spent together. I will cherish those moments. Always. I only ask that you live your life to its fullest. Fight for what you believe and love like the stars are falling for you._

_All my love,_

_Allison_

* * *

Even with the snow mostly thawed, it was still rather cold as the Hargreeves stepped out of the Cooper's house in the dark of night, long after the Commission had cleared out the corpses, time-travelling briefcases and the Coopers had fled for California. Pulling Uncle Luther's jacket in tighter, Theodore thumbed the little toy car that Harlan had given him in exchange for all of the scales and a promise to play again one day. "Everyone ready?" Uncle Five questioned as they all huddled up around the chosen briefcase.

"Let's do it, yeah" Uncle Luther replied, shifting slightly next to him.

"Okay"

"All right"

"Here we go" Theodore gripped tight to his mother's hand whilst the other reached for Uncle Klaus' forearm (the one in which was wrapped snuggly around Benny), before he suddenly jolted.

"Wait!"

"What?" Uncle Five jerked an eyebrow at him in slight irritation, sharing the sentiment with the rest of the family as Klaus suddenly hurried over to the porch where a cowboy hat lay forgotten.

"Fifty bucks if we leave 'im 'ere" Uncle Diego whispered jokingly to Uncle Five as Uncle Klaus shuffled back over and retook his place in the circle. And just like that, they were gone leaving naught behind but a whoosh and an illuminating flash of blue.


	38. Epilogue

**_2 April 2019_ **

Landing in the foyer of the previously destroyed Hargreeves mansion was hard—hard in that it rattled Theodore's knees and he felt like a whole box of cotton had been shoved up his nose. But also in the sense that all of the memories he had associated—the only memories—with the place were of his grandfather's funeral and the following days that led to their impending doom. Twice. He could only _imagine_ what the elder Hargreeves must be feeling—what Mama must feel knowing she had destroyed the place, killed Gruncle Pogo here and disowned her own son before going off to the destroy the world. Not to mention all the years of isolation and solitude. It certainly put a damper on the homecoming in Theodore's opinion anyway. The others? Not so much.

"Oh, good God!" Uncle Luther gasped, reeling back at the feeling of being yanked about. "Wh—what day is it?"

"April 2nd 2019" Uncle Five replied, reading out the date from the pristine newspaper that languished on the entry table. "Day _after_ the Apocalypse"

"Wait, so we stopped it?" Auntie Allison breathed is disbelief.

"Oh my God! It's over?" Mama cried.

"Did we…?" Uncle Klaus whimpered as he set Benny down on the table for a moment so he could catch his breath. "Did we _actually_ succeed at something? That's INCREDIBLE!"

"Oop!" Theodore gasped as he was pulled into a tight hug by his eccentric uncle, before he was passed off in favour of Auntie and then Uncle Luther.

"Oh!"

"All right"

"I don't know about you guys, but I need a drink—" Uncle Klaus sighed breathily, picking up Benny as he went and all but sprinting over to the bar.

"YES!" Uncle Luther cheered.

"—In fact, I need _several!"_

"I'm in, I'm in" Mama agreed, following after them.

"I should go find Claire…" Auntie Allison mused.

"Oh, _c'me on!_ One drink!" Uncle Luther retorted, pulling her along with Theodore & Uncle Diego bringing up the rear.

Theodore had barely stepped into the living room when Uncle Diego spotted something the threw the wrench in the works. "Why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?" He asked, staring up at the regal portrait that stared right back over the crackling fireplace.

"Oh yeah" Theodore hummed as the others who had congregated around the bar, huddled back together again. "Wasn't Uncle Five's portrait up there before?"

"I knew you'd show up eventually" Interjected the baritone of Grandfather from the other end of the room.

"Grandfather!" Theodore smiled brightly, although he was the only one to do so. If his tail had been visible, he was sure it would've been wagging. The last time Theodore had seen his grandfather was at that disastrous supper back in 1963 when custody of the young man had been handed over to Uncle Five. Grandfather merely glanced over at Theodore without a change in his expression—No downward turn of the lips nor scrunching of the brow and somehow that was all the praise in the world. Theodore had become very apt in reading the stoic man; he knew what that body language meant (Grandfather had certainly grilled him enough).

"Dad…" Uncle Diego breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You're alive…?" Uncle Luther added softly.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Grandfather sharply retorted.

"Yeah…Y-yeah you're right. I'm—I'm just happy that we're home and—and together again"

"Home? This isn't your home"

"What are you talking about?" Auntie Allison queried, her brows furrowed in confusion. "This is the Umbrella Academy"

"Wrong again. This is the _Sparrow Academy"_

 _Sparrow?_ Theodore thought, _That's new._ Habitually he paused, waiting for a reply from Loren that never came—would never come again—and deflated at the reminder, before turning at the sound of approaching footsteps. Soon enough they were greeted by six silhouettes—five of which were human—upon the balcony whilst the seventh member appeared before them. "Dad, who the hell are _these_ assholes?" Uncle Ben asked.

"Is that Uncle Ben? Isn't he supposed to be dead—aren't you s'posed to be dead?" Theodore asked the room, but received no reply. Instead, the Umbrella Academy stared at the alternate version of their deceased brother with a mixture of dread, shock and disbelief.

"Shit"


End file.
